To Grandma's Condo We Go

Five hundred years ago in 1513, Ponce de Leon discovered Florida and Don and I arrived in 2001 to begin our next adventure. What a difference 500 years make! We moved into our condominium at Spring Run in The Brooks and when the Barbers were enroute to see us our first Christmas the song led by Keith was “over the River and through the gate to Grandma’s condo we go.” Our third retirement brought us to beautiful southwest Florida. We had already sampled the mountains and the desert and now it was time to try the beach and the gulf. We arrived In May, a warm humid time of the year in Florida, the exact opposite of the hot dry climate of Arizona, whose motto was “but it’s a dry heat!”

Kelly was nine years old, and Laurie was five, the perfect age for granddaughters! The Florida years with Jennifer, Keith and the girl were about to begin. To complete the picture our good friends Bill and Marie Demmer lived five miles away on the beach in Bonita Springs. We had stayed in touch through the years by annual Christmas cards, but now picked up in person where we left off after our wedding. Many great boat trips, lunches, concerts, and visits to their house at Lake Winnipesaukee filled the next years, not to mention days at the beach!

Florida memories are like looking through a kaleidoscope, there are so many in a wide variety of colors..Jennifer was now the media specialist at Pinewoods Elementary, a nearby school, and I was ready to put my library skills to work shelving books. Dinosaur books were among the favorites of boys and girls and it was fun to be around the children. Kelly and Laurie had plenty of energy and enthusiasm to share and they spent many hours and days with Grandpa and me at our condo. They would come overnight with their backpacks and suitcases and proceed to set up shop with dolls and other toys in the middle of the living room floor. They were very inventive and creative and could play for hours in their own world. Many art projects were worked on at the kitchen table and some of my vintage clothes worked perfectly for dressing up. They also had one outfit that came via a shopping trip to Good Will with Jennifer and Keith. They put together some very glamorous outfits and Laurie’s flair for clothes may have started there.

When they started Tae Kwon Do Grandpa and I went to watch their sessions. It was very hard to watch the struggle they had to get into their gear, which they had to do themselves with no help from grown ups, as part of the program. Sometimes they would practice their routines on the golf tee outside our condo, watching out for errant golf balls and golfers! They progressed through many belt colors and I imagine their training stands them in good stead traveling in Oakland and San Francisco today. There were also gymnastic sessions to see and balance beams to conquer.

On Saturdays their friend Sam would spend the day and was always part of any excursions. It was on Saturdays that I learned how to order a sandwich at Subway by standing behind Kelly and Laurie and saying “I’ll have what she’s having.” Laurie liked the meatball sub and through Kelly I learned to add banana peppers to my sandwich. I also learned you could create drinks at the soda machines by pushing different levers!

And then there was Halloween in Orange Tree, a night not to be missed! Such excitement, it was like a giant festival where many houses were decorated with pumpkins and witches, and people sat outside giving out candy. It was the perfect place to live with so many houses to visit. Kids came from miles around because Orange Tree was not a gated community. As I walked around with them on Halloween night I was enjoying my second childhood.

Birthday parties were fun events, especially ones held at Germain Arena ice skating rink. Ice skating in Florida is still a novelty to me. Pizza and ice cream and birthday cake were the refreshments provided and of course, ice skating. Grandpa was excited to take part and was out on the ice skating around only to learn that our session hadn’t yet begun! We had done a lot of outdoor skating in NJ growing up and were happy to learn that our skating abilities had held up, but we sure didn’t have the endurance of ten year olds! Not bad for sixty five year olds though.

An easier party for us was the pool party Laurie had for her ninth birthday at the Orange Tree Clubhouse and pool. Her whole class was invited; it was a beautiful day and a birthday to remember! And easier on our older bodies.

On occasions when Laurie’s school had an early dismissal day I would pick her up, and we would go home to her house for the afternoon. What I remember most about those days is that Laurie would get in the car and talk excitedly all the way home. What she probably remembers best is the time I drove right past the turn for her house and kept on going. I believe she pointed out my error. Years later Grandpa called her Magellan as she called out directions from her iPhone as we were looking for the restaurant after Kelly’s graduation from the University of Florida.

One day I took Kelly to a downtown federal building for something she had to do there. I wasn’t familiar with the area but felt confident that I could return a different way. As I drove I realized I was lost when it turned out we were on the road leading to the small Naples airport. Kelly’s comment was “I didn’t even know Naples had an airport!”

Grandpa and I enjoyed going to Kelly’s swim meets and football games where Laurie played in the band, with an instrument that was bigger than she was. The school concerts and awards ceremonies and banquets rounded out their school years.

Grandpa thought that since we were surrounded by water here we should have a boat. He had loved fishing growing up and Florida fishing from a boat would be great. He had many good hours exploring the waters in the area and sometimes the Barbers would join us. Kelly and Laurie would struggle into their cumbersome life jackets and away we would go. One time Grandpa asked Kelly and Laurie if they would like to take the wheel. Kelly declined but Laurie jumped at the chance. Might have been a precursor of travels to come for her as she has accumulated many driving miles driving coast to coast!

One of our boat trips was to Mound Key, which was the home of the Calusa Indians for ages. The key was comprised of millions of shells piled up by the Calusa. Our boat trip ended at Strawberry Corners for ice cream. We went there often with Bill and Marie Demmer on some of our adult excursions. Some days we would take Kelly and Laurie in the boat and anchor and go to the beach.

In the meantime, Keith was running an entertainment company, so sometimes small hermit crabs would be delivered to the house. They were painted with numbers on their backs and were used in crab races at the Ritz Carlton. Once Grandpa had to deliver something to Keith that he had forgotten, and on his way out helped himself to some refreshments at another party.

We had one very enjoyable weekend at the Sandpiper Club Med where Keith was doing caricatures. Kent joined us from California and we learned about his girlfriend Kimberley on that visit. One of the most memorable parts of that trip was watching Kelly and Laurie on the trapeze. Perhaps a better way to describe it would be to say that it was a very scary part of the trip watching Kelly and Laurie flying through the air with the greatest of ease. And Kent also did it. A weekend to remember.

A few years later Kent asked Kimberley to marry him and the Demmers offered their beautiful beachfront home for the wedding. They had to attend a wedding in Boston so were not there. It was a beautiful wedding on the beach, followed by an elegant dinner at the Ritz Carlton in Naples. We have lovely pictures of the Barbers and Grandpa was resplendent in his “penguin suit” as he called it. Apropos as Kent spent time in Antarctica with penguins, flying helicopter support for the National Science Foundation.

Jennifer was now at Sabal Palm School as the media specialist and Grandpa and I helped her in setting it up. She also held book fairs twice a year where I was able to help. It is a major undertaking, not just books but so many other things to chose from. I loved being part of the whole reading scene.

Kelly in the meantime could often be found in her “tree,” reading a variety of books. A tree is a good place for reading if you can’t find a quiet corner!

And then there is the story of Keith and the motorcycle. He knew I hated motorcycles; I won’t count the ways. It was the one opinion I was loud and clear about. So through the years we would give him toy motorcycles, motorcycle birthday cards, etc. and I was hopeful that would be enough. Until one day Kelly and Laurie, with gleeful expressions on their faces, said “We have something to show you in the garage” and voila! There was Keith’s motorcycle. Seems there was some discussion ahead of time as to “who was going to tell Grandma that Dad has a motorcycle!”

Since my days seeing shows in New York I have always loved theatre and Naples has a lot to offer. It was great going to the lunch dinner theatres with Jennifer, Kelly and Laurie, seeing The Secret Garden at the Naples Players and West Side Story at the Philharmonic, in addition to seeing Laurie’s friend Chris in Cats at the Kidz Act. Grandpa and I joined Bill and Marie at many wonderful concerts at the Phil, now Artis Naples. The Christmas concerts are magnificent and the Patriotic Pops concerts where Grandpa and other service members would stand when their service song was played were memorable.

One summer, Don and I spent one month in Highlands in the mountains of North Carolina in a fabulous house on the side of a hill among the trees. We did a lot of hiking, especially to waterfalls, visited beautiful homes on a garden and home tour. Grandpa loved seeing the landscape design of these mountain homes. One summer we took the Rocky Mountaineer train trip across Canada, a wonderful trip through gorgeous scenery and especially nice for Grandpa. On camping trips he was driving and couldn’t enjoy the scenery too much. We returned to Caneel Bay three times. Once for our 50th anniversary, but went on our 49th, in case we didn’t make it to the 50th. We spent time each summer with Bill and Marie at their great waterside home at Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire, where every day we went out to lunch by boat.

In the meantime we were living in Florida enjoying the beach and the boat. Grandpa was playing a lot of tennis, I was doing water aerobics, I learned to play mahjong, we were going out to lunch frequently, and Grandpa volunteered at the Conservancy of Southwest Florida as a boat captain. He was a great boat captain, taking guests on boat tours and giving talks on the Florida ecosystem, he is a born educator. Laurie volunteered there for a period of time, working in the animal hospital. One of the supervisors gave Laurie the job of cutting up a dead rat to feed a snake. The woman told Laurie that she couldn’t do it because she was a vegetarian! There really is humor everywhere.

In 2016 we were now in our eighties (how did that happen!)? And time for another move. This time we moved a few miles down the road to a new rental retirement community, American House. We continued to “downsize” and are almost down to two reclining chairs and a television set! We are in Independent Living; there is an Assisted Living Section and a Memory Care unit. Since moving is in our blood, we may not be done yet! Our sense of humor is intact and every day brings something new to laugh about!

Arizona

By Doris

In moving to Arizona, we were part of a large group of “senior citizens” migrating to “over 55” communities, a phenomenon that was developed when Del Webb opened the first Sun City in Arizona in 1960. We chose Saddlebrooke, outside Tucson, at the foothills of the Catalina mountains. It was a beautiful setting in the desert, a new community with residents from many other places. It was easy to make friends through many activities, including golf.

The golf course was beautiful and I often went for walks along the paths when nobody was playing. Since Don was working, I joined the Ladies Nine Holers group, where golf was fun and lunch afterwards was more fun! One of the ladies insisted she knew me from somewhere, and when we compared places we had lived, it turned out she had worked in our vet’s office in New Orleans. As soon as she mentioned that, I remembered her. She and her husband became good friends. Don played golf with her husband and one summer we visited them at their summer place at Pine Top, which was a nice cool change when it was 100 degrees. Golf is a pretty safe sport but I managed to fall out of Martha’s golf cart and fracture my skull one day when she made a quick turn. There were no seat belts in golf carts, like there weren’t any in volkswagens in Bermuda. Our friendship continued when Martha insisted I had to receive an insurance settlement for my injury. Yes, there is golf cart insurance!

The lot surrounding our house was like a canvas for Don to create an oasis, and what a beautiful job he did. In order to get some native cactus plants we put on some dark clothes, got in our golf cart one night and went cactus napping in the desert. Kind of like taking pine branches from the National Forest in Colorado!

I was good at digging holes and moving stones, used instead of grass. We actually picked out the colored stones we wanted, kind of like picking out carpet from samples! I did not have a green thumb which one of my neighbors, Ruth, learned when she asked me to water her 100+ plants when she was out of town. Or maybe I lacked focus. When she returned, we were chatting about her trip when she casually asked “So, when did the petunias die?” Whoops! I guess I missed those. For awhile, I was known in the neighborhood as “Petunia.”

Grandma and Grandpa Lidke were now living in a retirement home in Tucson and we would see them frequently. Jennifer, Keith and now Kelly visited us from Colorado, and Grandma and Grandpa were so happy to be able to see and play with their first great granddaughter. On another trip, when Kelly was now walking, they visited Mae and Rudy at their apartment, where they could show her off to the residents. Unfortunately they never had the opportunity to know Laurie, whom they would have also bragged about!

One year over the Fourth of July, Jennifer, Keith, Kelly and now Laurie, came for a memorable visit. Our challenge was to make a place for Kelly and Laurie to sleep. Grandpa to the rescue!  We had a very large space which was designed for a washer and dryer, but ours lived in the garage, so Grandpa constructed bunk beds for them in the closet, a very cozy arrangement without doors.

We went to see our local fireworks at Saddlebrooke and had some Fourth of July decorations and placemats for our picnic supper, and we had Kelly for our waitress, as she had been for other meals, taking orders for drinks and food, with help from Laurie. I believe it was this trip when we went to the zoo on a day that a baby giraffe had been born and watched it struggling to stand. It was truly exciting, especially for the zookeepers because the gestation period for a giraffe is 15 months! Grandpa took the girls, as they soon became known, for a ride in the golf cart where they came upon a family of javelinas, Arizona’s wild pigs. Pretty exciting. A local author wrote a book about “the three little javelinas.” We used our community pool for a cool dip and visited a local park that had ducks, and every day was more fun than the last. I think it was during this visit that I became the “laughing grandma.” Laurie made me laugh one day when she made an observation about clothes. I hadn’t noticed, but apparently Kelly had been wearing shorts every day and Laurie was wearing dresses. Laurie’s question was “How come Kelly never wears a dress?” She was three years old and I didn’t have an answer! It was several years later that we moved to Florida so we wouldn’t miss these special every day moments!

Our neighborhood had a monthly ladies lunch group and we would pick a different local restaurant in the area. One of the most interesting ones was the tea room at Tohono Chul, which was in a beautiful botanical garden covering several acres in Tucson. It was a delightful oasis with wonderful food and a unique bookstore, The Haunted Book Shop. I was puzzled about the name, thinking maybe they only carried ghost stories. It turned out it was from a quote from a poet who was “haunted by the books he hadn’t read.” I could identify with that!

On a historic note, we lived several miles from Biosphere 2 that was developed with the idea of testing humans for future colonization of Mars. The biospherans were a group of scientists who agreed to live inside the biosphere, which looked like huge greenhouses, growing their own food and being self sufficient. There was an ocean and a rainforest. They were dependent upon the sun to support the growth of food, and the first year was difficult because there were far fewer sunny days than usual. They remained sealed inside for two years, survived on the food grown, and even wrote a cookbook. It was a matter of great public curiosity. It is now operated and controlled by the University of Arizona and is open for public tours. 

During our years in Arizona, Kent would visit on leave from the Navy, and we made a trip up to Mt. Lemmon with the Barbers once. Mt. Lemmon was high enough to be cool and it had its own small ski area. It always felt good to be among the pine trees, a change from the desert. 

Kent in Antarctica

Kent first became interested in computer animation when he wanted to preserve some video and photos from his tour in Antarctica. It was during this tour, where the Navy flew helicopters in support of the National Science Foundation, that he became acquainted with penguins, fascinating creatures. He worked hard at learning animation, some of it on leave in Arizona.  While still in the Navy he did the Flying Bubbas, his version of the Blue Angels, starring helicopter pilots.

Along with our new friends and neighbors at Saddlebrooke, our old friends Jerry and Rosemary lived nearby, and we played a lot of golf with them. On one occasion we went to Phoenix with them to see Jim and Jody Peterson, other friends from Breckenridge, where we played golf when the temperature was 110 degrees. Mad dogs and golfers go out in the noonday sun!

There are so many memories and stories from those years, but I will close with one about Jerry and Rosemary. They had five children. Rosemary worked in an office near her home. Rosemary was a very compassionate person. One of their sons was visiting at the time of an approaching wedding anniversary and Jerry and Dan planned a “surprise” for Rosemary. Their other four children were coming from Colorado. Jerry and Dan went to pick up Rosemary from work and as they were driving her home, they came upon a group of ragged looking people holding a sign that said, “Will work for food,” and Rosemary says “Oh, look  at those poor homeless people.” They got a little closer and here was Rosemary’s “surprise,” her “homeless” kids were there to celebrate with her!

We were now going to “retire” for a third time. We loved the mountains, enjoyed the desert, and now it was time to go to the beach in Florida! I have always loved the beach!

Breckenridge Family Stories

By Doris

Grandpa Rudy and Grandma Mae were a big part of our family activities, driving from Colorado Springs through South Park and over Hoosier Pass for holidays and school events. Grandma never came empty handed, sometimes making a bakery stop, other times with homemade goodies. They moved from NJ to Colorado Springs when we retired to Breckenridge so they could watch Jennifer and Kent continue to grow up. Sound familiar? I am so glad we were able to enjoy those special times with them. 

We have some interesting stories involving cars and driving experiences, starring both Jennifer and Kent. Don taught both of them to drive, and particularly how to drive in snow, from skidding on ice to climbing hills in low gear. Our cars, mostly Volkswagens, were all standard shift cars, not automatic. It was all I drove for years and driving automatic cars still doesn’t feel like real driving to me. One night Jennifer was going to play practice, got in the Square back, and backed into the van parked behind her, knocking off the spare tire mounted on the front. When she came in to tell us I had to try really hard to not laugh. I had an immediate picture in my mind that struck me funny then and it still does!  

Our Volkswagens were not known for their heaters and Jennifer sometimes had to drive with big down mittens, holding an ice scraper in one hand to keep the inside windshield clear. One episode involving Kent happened when he was near Swan Mountain Road on Highway 6 and Keystone, when one of the back wheels on the square back came off, and he managed to skid to a stop.  Don took his tool box, Kent had the wheel, and they put it back on.

Six weeks after Kent got his license he got a speeding ticket on the way home from Frisco. Don had told him that in dealing with law enforcement the only correct way was to say “yes sir, no sir.” The trooper was so impressed with Kent’s responses that he explained to him how to cop a plea in court so he would get fewer points on his license. This was important because at 16 years of age you could easily lose your license with a certain point count with another minor offense. It was an experience for Kent to go to court and go before the judge and learn that fines also had to be paid in cash. My takeaway from the episode was that every teenager should have a point count on their license to slow them down!

My proudest driving moment came when Jennifer, Kent and I were returning from a trip to Denver. There is an intersection there called the “mousetrap” where you have three choices: one to Ft. Collins, one to Colorado Springs and one to the mountains. There was no sign to just Breckenridge, and with my notoriously poor sense of direction, I had to do some deductive reasoning and make the right choice at 60 miles an hour. As we made it successfully through the mousetrap, I got a round of applause from the back seat!

Kent was on the ski team at Summit High which meant getting to school very early on ski race days to travel by bus to the site. Summit High had one section where the building was round, and one morning Kent arrived a little too quickly and ran his car into the building, which has left me with a very funny picture in my mind! He did win a race that day and it was suggested that he tell us that first, and then break the news about hitting the building!

When Jennifer went to Colorado College in Colorado Springs and would come home for the weekend on occasion, I would insist that we follow her over the pass in snow conditions to make sure she made it. It was too easy to slide off the road and prior to cell phones, it could be hard to locate someone. She always carried a down sleeping bag in the car. When she transferred to Drake in Des Moines, Don gave her instructions one day on how to fix the starter on the car, all by phone. The guys living in the house next door were pretty impressed!

Our outdoor fun was also cross country skiing and one time near Christmas we were out skiing on National Forest land. Summit County was comprised of a lot of National Forest acres. I thought it would be nice to take some of the pine branches for decoration, and as I broke one off, Jennifer informed me that it was against the law to cut branches on National Forest Service land. But I took them anyway!

There are so many stories to tell, but we will leave it to Jennifer and Kent to tell some of theirs.

Jennifer and Kent both had a number of jobs growing up. Businesses in town always needed help. Jennifer worked in a sporting goods store, another store operated by our duplex neighbors, a summer day camp, and at the Courthouse as part of a program with the school. The courthouse was an interesting place because she came in contact with a lot of local people and had quite a bit of responsibility and learned a lot.

Kent had a job with the Whale’s Tail restaurant, Goods (a clothing store), and the movie theatre in town. The theatre job involved cleaning the theatre every day before the night movie. A movie story about Kent was pretty funny. Before he worked there, I gave him money to go see a movie. He had money to cover the ticket and snacks. He was to telephone when the movie ended and we would pick him up. At about 10 o’clock the phone rang and the operator asked, “Will you accept a collect call from Kent Lidke?” He had used up all of his money, and problem solver that he was, he called collect! Another job he had was shoveling snow off steps at a condominium development. This was dependent on when it snowed. Jennifer and Kent had quite the resumes by the time they were 18 years old!

We decided to get a golden retriever following our bad experience with Baron, our last German Shepherd. Sandy was the easiest dog we ever had, with the sweetest disposition. Jennifer took Sandy to be put down when she was home from college because Don and I couldn’t bear to. She had surgeries to remove growths from her mouth. She was followed by another golden, Casey, who when he was close to the end of his life, went on a tour of the local hotel kitchens. We let him out one night and then couldn’t find him. At two in the morning we got a call from one of the hotels saying they had Casey, so we gratefully “retrieved” him! 

Both dogs always retrieved our newspapers for us so we didn’t have to go out in the snow. Sandy would sit out on the deck and the squirrels would be hoarding nuts, some pine cones falling on her, but she never looked up! We all loved those dogs.

When Jennifer had her first teaching job in Colorado Springs, she stayed with Grandma and Grandpa, but later when she had her own apartment she got Jazper, a little Sheltie. When she would visit with him it was great fun to see him with Casey. For some reason Jazper never liked Kent and would growl at him, no matter how hard he tried to be friends. One day as Kent was coming down the stairs and Jazper was growling again, Kent looked at him and said “You would make a very good hat!”

Time marched on and Jennifer and Kent had lives away from Breckenridge — college, teaching and the Navy called. Don told Kent that if he joined the Air Force, he would disown him. He soon left his lift attendant job and drove to Pensacola to meet his Marine Gunnery Sergeant for close order drill and other fun and games before actual flight training. 

Jennifer met Keith at Colorado Springs and we were soon planning a wedding in the Springs. Keith had been working at the Four Seasons in Colorado Springs and it was a perfect setting for the reception. The exchange of vows was at a beautiful church where they were members. It was a pleasure to meet Keith’s family who came from Illinois. Brother Gary was the best man. Keith’s dad, a professional photographer did the wedding photos. All of Keith’s family knew how to fall quickly into place for pictures from years of practice. My father and stepmother came from California, and of course Grandpa and Grandma Mae were there. Jennifer was beautiful in my wedding dress, which she redesigned to make it uniquely hers, and her attendants were in beautiful blue, her favorite color and mine too! I spent a lot of time with Grandma Mae shopping for her dress. She was very concerned that we wouldn’t be able to find one to fit. On a clothing note, older ladies usually shopped for half sizes, which were not particularly stylish. Fortunately the petite category, a recent designation in clothing, fit the bill, and we found the perfect dress for her. I realized it was very important for her to have a pretty dress because Jennifer was special to her, and she was so happy she was able to be at her wedding.

At the time we were planning Jennifer’s wedding, Kent was in the Navy going through basic officer training. The date set was so far in the future we foresaw no conflict for him. Unfortunately he developed pneumonia during basic training, but it was missed by the Navy, and he kept plugging along, until they finally discovered it. During basic training any recruit can drop out at any point, and many do, but Kent persevered. He was in a unique position, between a rock and a hard place, which is often the case in the Navy. Because of the delay in his training caused by the pneumonia, for a period of time it was touch and go as to whether he would finish without a conflict of dates. There was the possibility that his ceremony in Pensacola and Jennifer’s wedding would fall on the same day! Fortunately it turned out to be a week earlier and he arrived in time. It was wedding jitters for the parents of the bride!

Another life changing event happened in 1982, the year Kent graduated from high school and left for RPI. In August I developed Type One diabetes, often known as juvenile diabetes. I was 46 years old! Kent pretty much got himself ready to leave home and drive from Colorado to New York State, driving the 1966 VW Square back, which we purchased upon leaving Adak because Kent had been born and the VW bug was too small (the same car he drove into the school and the one Jennifer used backing into the van). That car had a long interesting life!

Jennifer and Keith eventually settled in Eckert and Kent began his eight year Navy career. One tour of duty took him to Antarctica (at his request). We all celebrated Christmas in Breckenridge that year and one of his gifts was electric socks!

In writing these stories I found that each one triggered ten more, but I will conclude with this final one. Kent was home on leave, Grandma and Grandpa were living in Colorado Springs and Jennifer and Keith were living in Eckert. We arranged for all of us to get together at Jennifer and Keith’s. Don, his folks, and I drove in one car and Kent left an hour behind us in his car, which was now a BMW with many thousands of miles on it (the squareback was history). Awaiting us in the kitchen at Eckert was a malfunctioning dishwasher, which Jennifer happened to mention. Don sprang into action and dismantled the dishwasher in the middle of the kitchen floor, because any broken thing is a challenge to be fixed immediately. Kent arrived in the middle of this scene, looked around and by way of greeting said “Okay, so who is the dummy who told Dad the dishwasher didn’t work?” And our mini-family reunion was under way!

New Orleans the Second Time Around

By Doris

New Orleans, 1973.  Here we were, the second time around.  It was the same in many ways; the same Navy, different assignment, same development, different house, same schools, but now the schools were integrated. The student body and the staff were integrated.

Jennifer was now in junior high, which had a large number of students from “the projects,” a totally new socioeconomic group.  This was integration “up close and personal.” At least one student coveted Jennifer’s lunch and would manage to steal it. We considered putting hot pepper in the peanut  butter sandwich to catch the culprit, but then thought better of it. Jennifer made some new friends, one of whom was a Jehovah’s Witness. The most unusual aspect of their faith to us was that they didn’t celebrate birthdays or holidays in their family. There are Bible-based reasons for their beliefs which are respected. Their friendship expanded our horizons.

In elementary school Kent’s third grade teacher was Mrs. Walker, a wonderful black teacher. She took it in stride when Kent corrected her concerning the land bridge that at one time existed between Russia and Alaska. After all, who would know this better than an eight year old boy born in the Aleutian Islands? Upon meeting Mrs. Walker for the first time at an open house, she greeted me with “I have REALLY been wanting to meet you!”

Our good relationship proceeded from there. She was an excellent teacher and sensitive to the needs of each child. She once said the old folks had a saying “that one walked this way before,” with a knowing glance in talking about Kent. We benefited greatly from knowing her. Another part of my cultural enlightenment.

A girl from Mississippi moved in down at the end of our block, another Jennifer, who was Jennifer’s age. She had beautiful blond curls and spoke with with a thick Southern drawl. I was shocked when I met her mother, who had no accent at all. Turned out Jennifer “from the block” was born in Mississippi and lived there until they moved to New Orleans. Her folks were from middle America and her dad’s job took them to Mississippi and then to New Orleans.  Brings to mind the “nature vs. nurture” discussion, in this case outside influences vs. the home environment.

Kent had a new friend, Robby, who noticed that I was “directionally challenged!” The Harlem Globetrotters came to town. They were a talented black basketball team who could do all kinds of impossible tricks with a basketball in their very entertaining version of a basketball game. Because Don had to fly at the last minute, we invited Robby to join us. This involved me driving across the big Mississippi River bridge to the arena in downtown New Orleans. We made it there and had a lot of fun at the game.  And then it was time to drive home, and I could not find the way to the Mississippi River bridge! As I mentioned, this is a very BIG bridge, hard to miss!. In my efforts to get there I went around in circles for awhile. Robby’s voice came to me from the back seat,  “Mrs. Lidke, we passed that gas station before!” Finally the bridge loomed up ahead and we made it back across the mighty Mississippi.

The best way to learn about a school is to volunteer in it, so I helped out in the office. One day the principal asked if I could do an emergency subbing job in a first grade classroom. Undaunted, I said yes, after all, I once led a brownie troop. The teacher had left some work, which the kids finished in quick order, and then I lost control. It was bedlam, kids needing to go to the bathroom, running around, one little boy who was on crutches using them as a weapon, and then the lights went out! I turned around and one little guy, who was the culprit, says “that “bees” what Miss Brown do when we “bees” bad!  It was time to call for help, the principal to the rescue! My teaching days were over.

In September our second New Orleans hurricane adventure began. Jennifer had a slumber party for her birthday on a Friday night, and for added excitement, we were keeping an eye on the approaching hurricane. By Saturday morning I had made my decision --we were leaving before its arrival. Don had already evacuated with a plane, so I packed up Jennifer, Kent, Chris, the family photos, and the insurance policies, and we were off, across the mighty Mississippi River bridge again. My plan was to go west to Baton Rouge, when the radio announced that the hurricane was veering in that direction. The decision was made for me, we would go north instead to Hattiesburg, MS, a good choice. Unfortunately, many other people chose it too and there were no available motel rooms. So now it was on to Jackson MS, with a stop to eat. We tied Chris to a tree while we went into the restaurant to eat. He expressed his displeasure loudly!

At one point during this odyssey, Jennifer announces excitedly “We’re having an adventure just like the Bobbsey twins!” Yes, we were indeed, and so was Mom, who had never driven a car by herself further than 25 miles around towns where we lived! We found a room in Jackson, made contact with Don who was very happy to hear Chris bark and learn we were okay. The hurricane missed us and we returned safely the next day, encountering only a huge bug hatch that covered the windshield. A great ending, but there was an even greater longer lasting effect; I now felt empowered to drive anywhere. To quote the Helen Reddy song “I am woman hear me roar, in voices too loud to ignore, no one’s ever gonna keep me down again!”

One day a newspaper ad caught my attention. H&R Block was offering an income tax course, with possible employment during the upcoming tax season. It seemed like a good idea to enroll; looking to the future and the possibility of having a business of our own, I signed up. It was a detailed course and I was offered a position at its conclusion. I was now going to be a working mother, wearing two hats!  

Clients would bring their records to our office and we would do their return as they sat at our desk. We worked using adding machines; there were no computers. After three days I concluded this was not for me, but then they offered me the job of receptionist. It was a perfect fit and I loved it. It involved interviewing the client and taking down all of their personal information! What could be better, everyone was a story and you learned their marital status, their income, how many dependents they had, and where they lived. Best of all I then passed them along to a tax preparer to do the hard work. It would have been a perfect job for a young single girl! It was a good experience in returning to work and it only lasted through tax season. I learned that Women’s Lib and this working mom thing needed more study. Job sharing at home would be a necessity for this new concept to advance!

During our stays in New Orleans we were pretty healthy. We had one bout with the Hong Kong flu over Christmas break. Jennifer and Kent didn’t leave the house for ten days and Don had a fever that had him hallucinating and seeing things on the ceiling. Grandma Mary and Grandpa Rudy had come for a Christmas visit and were not sick, at least until after they left for Florida. We think perhaps Grandma was a carrier, so in family lore she became Typhoid Mary!

We had three hospitalizations for Jennifer and Kent at the Public Health Hospital, the place for tonsillectomies for military families.  New Orleans was a strep belt and we traded strep infections up and down the block. Strep throat was the disease du jour, so both Jennifer and Kent had their tonsils removed at different times. Jennifer was first and told Kent about a really BIG needle they used. We had a hard time holding Kent down when his turn came!

While we were in Adak I noticed that one of Jennifer’s eyes seemed to wander when she was tired. Upon returning to the lower 48, doctors watched it and in New Orleans it was decided to do corrective surgery to tighten the muscle that was the cause; apparently both eyes needed treatment. Jennifer had a friend, Dawn, who lived on our street, another Navy child who needed the identical surgery! They were hospital mates at the same time! Many years later when Jennifer needed surgery for cornea replacement because she had kerataconus (where the cornea tries to go cone shaped) she was an old hand at it.

Also while there Kent was tested for allergies, which resulted in weekly allergy shots. I would administer them but I didn’t have the right touch. He always wanted to go to the doctor’s office and have Bertha do them! Upon moving to Breckenridge we were able to discontinue the shots. I guess he wasn’t allergic to pine trees, just grass!

To end on a note of a fun trip, when Grandma and Grandpa Lidke visited we went on a Mississippi River trip on an old fashioned paddle wheeler to a Louisiana plantation home. It was a Fourth of July picnic on the grounds of an old plantation, with a beautiful home in the process of being restored. The event was a benefit for the plantation and we enjoyed a box lunch of fried chicken. It was a taste of history and a step back in time.

Our Navy days were coming to a close in New Orleans, and we would be moving from a house below sea level, protected by a levee, to Breckenridge in the Colorado mountains at 9600 feet, surrounded by snow capped peaks towering over us at 14,000 feet!  

The Nebraska Chapter

By Doris

Many things come to mind when remembering Nebraska.  Last night the College World Series in Omaha was on television and I was transported back to 1971 and our years attending baseball games there. Watching young college athletes play ball was a lot of fun; Kent especially enjoyed visiting the hot dog stand! We went to a hockey game at Ak Sar Ben Arena (Nebraska spelled backward) to enjoy a very popular sport with the local people. Bellevue High School played football games on Friday nights and we would attend rooting for the hometown team. It was great to have a “home town,” even if it was almost entirely military. Our local development was “Cherry Hill” and I bowled on a team with other wives.

Our bowling shirts identified us as the Cherry Hill Bombers!”  We made good use of the neighborhood pool in the summer, which the kids loved. Fifteen minutes of each hour was rest time for the children and only adults were allowed to swim. An excellent idea, as kids would never get out of the pool on their own. There was a nearby roller skating rink with music and lights, a magical activity that I recalled from my own childhood.

Although Don was gone often flying the admiral around, we led a very normal life in middle America.  

Somerset Drive was very similar to Comet Street, with many kids of all ages for friends. Jennifer had an immediate group of girls and Kent had a group of boys with whom to play football.  He was six years old and loved it. A little girl, Donora, in Kent’s class, lived up the street with her mother, little brother, David, and her grandpa. Her father had been killed in Vietnam. It brought the war home to your doorstep and was very sad. Our next door neighbors were an older couple, Harvey and Eunice, who were raising their two grandsons, Matt and Stevie, who were five and two. Their parents were killed in an automobile accident when they were home on leave. We became very good friends and Matt, Steve, and Kent spent many hours together. Stevie was very bright and would converse with Don from his side of the fence. Don also did a lot of car work and one day while he was under the car, he became aware of a little voice talking to him. He was very involved under the car and had apparently tuned Stevie out, until he heard “I’m going to kick you Mr. Lidke,” which got his attention in a hurry!

A month after one Halloween, Jennifer came into our room at night to say “there is something under my bed.”  I got down on my hands and knees to deal with this monster, and a frightened mouse raced past me, brushing my arm. My scream could be heard in downtown Omaha! Turns out Jennifer had stashed some Halloween candy there and the mouse was enjoying the buffet.

A mouse story involving Kent happened when we had to set a mouse trap due to cold weather, forcing field mice to seek a warm haven. One night we caught a few and disposed of their bodies by putting them on the back deck, where they became frozen. The next morning we had to dissuade Kent from taking them to school for “show and tell!”

I volunteered at the school library, which was a great place to learn what was going on in the school. A favorite magazine for the boys was National Geographic — they would gather around it to look at pictures of “naked ladies.” Dinosaurs finished a close second.

Ann and Hap Easter and their five girls also lived in Cherry Hill and we spent a lot of time together.  One day they were at our house when Kent came in banged up with skinned knees. As he was coming down the hill, the front wheel of his bike came off!  Never a dull moment. Don and I, along with Ann and Hap, would attend military events at historic Fort Omaha, often in formal attire. It was like taking a step back in time. Our families stayed close and after we moved to Colorado Cheri Easter, Jennifer’s friend, came for a visit. Also Harvey, Eunice, Matt and Steve visited us there. Good friends for us and good friends for Jennifer and Kent made for a wonderful tour of duty in Nebraska.

One unusual attraction was Fontenelle Forest near Bellevue. It was a great natural area of trees, hiking trails, wildlife and marshlands, and a bird watcher’s paradise. We enjoyed the natural feel and the history which involved Indians, traders and the Lewis and Clark expedition camping nearby.

In the spring in Nebraska there is a great migration of the sandhill cranes in the Platte River Valley on their journey north to Canada, Alaska, and Siberia. It is known to be one of the greatest wildlife spectacles on the continent. Jennifer’s fifth grade teacher was an avid birder and when she learned we were going to Colorado via the Platte River, she was most insistent that we go see the sandhill cranes. This meant getting off the interstate and meandering the backroads looking for them. For a great migration they seemed be hard to find. Don commented as we were driving, “Well, I see a Bay City Crane” sitting in a field, but no sandhill crane. We were really laughing at this sandhill crane search, when an entire field of sandhill cranes took off in front of us! It was spectacular and well worth our side trip and Jennifer could report to her teacher that we were successful. We have followed stories of sandhill cranes ever since.

No Nebraska story would be complete without a tornado. Our house was a split level with an under the stairs large closet, which became our shelter when one minor tornado made its way through Bellevue. Fortunately there wasn’t much damage done, although the base had some. Huddled under the stairs you become very respectful of nature. Don, of course, had to venture a peak outside, not wanting to miss anything.

All good things come to an end and orders arrived for our transfer back to New Orleans. This time we would be returning to a familiar place, familiar in some ways but different in others. Our friends, the Easters, would be joining us, and Jennifer and Kent would be attending integrated schools.

We would be living another part of history as it happened.

Comet Street, Mardi Gras, and Hurricanes

By Doris

Our move to New Orleans and Comet Street was the beginning of three good years living in a picture perfect neighborhood of many houses, children of all ages for playmates and very welcoming neighbors, many of whom worked for oil companies. The oil companies moved people as often as the Navy did, so again we were meeting people from other parts of the country.

Our neighbors across the street were Navy people, and had a daughter, Debbie, and a son, Ricky, close in age to Jennifer and Kent, so instant friendships were formed. It was a neighborhood made to order for children, the kids could come and go up and down the block, and we were all still stay-at-home moms in 1971, so they were well supervised. They played school in our house — we had four bedrooms on a second floor and an intercom between all of the rooms, just like a real school! I played the role of the principal from my station in the kitchen. One family had six children, one of whom was a Down syndrome girl, Linda, and twins Rita and Nita. All of the kids were so great with Linda. She was part of everything they did and we all struggled watching her learn to roller skate and ride a bike, but to the kids accepted her as just one of the gang.

At Mardi Gras, the kids organized their own special Mardi Gras parade. Jennifer and Kent made the move very well — Jennifer enrolled in elementary school and Kent in nursery school, and Comet Street was a real gift to us. Not all military moves go so smoothly.

New Orleans schools did not have a good rating nationwide, but Habans School had excellent teachers, our experience over two tours of duty was outstanding, and the kids did very well. There were no special ed or gifted programs, so the teachers made the difference. Many New Orleans families preferred private schools, shades of Meridian! I once made telephone calls to gain support for a tax increase for schools and was astonished to be met with resistance to what amounted to a few dollars per year. Very different from California schools.

Jennifer decided she wanted to be a Brownie, so I was enlisted to be the leader. I had never been a Brownie or Girl Scout, but I was game. We met at our house once a week after school — another mother, me, and twelve girls. After our first meeting my neighbor, Karen Ewing, said it was very evident I was otherwise occupied when Kent decided it was fun to aim the garden hose at cars in the street! Things were never dull on Comet Street.

The father of one of Kent’s friends, Kevin Enoch, became the subject of a story Kent later wrote, when he was stranded overnight in the Gulf of Mexico on a group diving expedition.  The boat pulled away without him, so he swam quite a distance to an oil platform but couldn’t communicate with rescuers until the following morning. Very scary, Mr. Enoch was missing! That story showed Kent’s talent for writing at a very young age.

And then there was Mardi Gras Fat Tuesday, which was preceded by parades every day or night for two weeks leading up to the big day. My first parade was nearby in our neighborhood, on a Saturday afternoon. Don was now working on weekends because he was assigned to train reservists who came in on weekends, hence the name “weekend warriors.” Jennifer, Kent and I attended the parade with Karen, Debbie, and Ricky Ewing. There were many floats with people in colorful costumes. These people were part of a “Krewe” that met all year round to plan their special parade. The parades culminated with the big Mardi Gras Day parade, presided over by the King and Queen of the Rex parade.The Mardi Gras balls were wonderful events attended by many of the elite families going back several generations.

Our first parade in Walnut Bend, (the name of our subdivision named after a plantation) was a great eye opening experience for me as I discovered a competitive streak I didn’t know I had. You see, the riders on the floats throw beads, doubloons, and candy to the parade watchers, and the object is to catch something. The refrain is “throw me something, mister.” Well, my inner kid took over, and I became very competitive with small children when something came flying in my direction! We had a great time and I remember that day vividly. When Don finally went to a parade with us he couldn’t believe my transformation! On Mardi Gras day, families gathered in the Garden District, where there are many grand old homes. People line the streets and bring ladders for children to sit on so they can see better and are well positioned to catch beads. Families dress in costume. One year we went as clowns. The picture that stands out most in my mind is of a family of little black children all dressed as Indians. Most parades have a designated route, but the Zulu parade, comprised of all African Americans, wanders all over the city, with people trying to locate them because they throw golden coconuts. And then there is the music and the marching bands, our favorite was Pete Fountain’s “half fast ‘marching band!’ We certainly were enjoying all that New Orleans had to offer!

At the end of Comet Street was a levee holding back the mighty Mississippi River. Looking toward the levee, you could see the tops of ships as they passed by. Our neighborhood was within walking distance of a McDonald’s restaurant, and one day Jennifer and one of the twins went to have some lunch. On their way, Jennifer fell and cut her knee badly. She sent Nita into the restaurant for some napkins to staunch the flow of blood, limped home, cleaned the wound up herself, and then came upstairs to tell me about it! Our brownie troop went on a field trip to McDonald’s where we learned that their French fries were from fresh, not frozen, potatoes and the employee motto was CAYG which stood for “clean as you go,” a very good motto for the Brownies.

When Kent started kindergarten we discovered that he had a doppelgänger, Dale Lockhart, a year ahead of him. His mother and I had trouble telling them apart, both tall with red hair and blue eyes. They were a Navy family and we later skied with them in Breckenridge when we all lived in Colorado. I still hear from them. Marcy and her daughter went back to the old neighborhood a few years after Hurricane Katrina devastated the city and gave us a report. Our side of the city was not devastated like some parts of the city. One of the big changes was that all New Orleans public schools became charter schools and were able to rebuild from the ground up.

I volunteered in the school office and thoroughly enjoyed working with Mr. Puyagh, the principal, who was the father of seven red headed children. He always explained that his children went to parochial school for the religious aspect, but he was a firm believer in public education. On our second tour in New Orleans when the schools were integrated, both staffs and students, he was a firm supporter of the black families. He sent a school bus to bring black parents to PTA meetings because as he explained, “many of them as children didn’t have good experiences in school” and he wanted them to feel welcome. An exceptional man at an extraordinary time.

Our lives were now more normal on an everyday basis, except Don was now working weekends. This meant that his “weekends” were Monday and Tuesday, but Sunday nights he had to fly the airlift to return the weekend warriors home. The Officer Wives Club was a very active group.

Our neighbor Karen was president and could run a meeting better than anyone I have ever known. Each Christmas we had a Christmas party for the children at an orphanage in downtown New Orleans and many hours were spent wrapping toys and making food for children who had no families. This was always a very special event each year.

And then there was hurricane season. I had experienced remnants of hurricanes in New Jersey, but that was high waves and downed trees, not the vulnerability that we felt in New Orleans. When Hurricane Camille took aim at New Orleans, I grabbed Jennifer, Kent, and Chris, our insurance policies, family photos and evacuated to the Naval base, figuring whatever happened we would have support there. I remember hearing there were 200 mile an hour winds approaching the mouth of the Mississippi, not good, as I remembered Adak winds of 100 miles an hour! Camille turned out to be the strongest storm to hit the United States at that time. The devastation was incredible. People who opted to stay and have a hurricane party on the gulf coast were never found. A sheriff took their names when he warned them of the seriousness of the approaching storm. This was before cell phones and the internet so the areas hit were incommunicado for a long time. A helicopter from the base flew over the area, saw a nun waving a flag on the beach, and landed to see what she needed for the orphans in her care. It was an incredible operation for the military and they did a fantastic job. Our homes and lives were safe, but I learned that I would never stay put for another hurricane!

As Navy life would have it, orders for our next move arrived and we were off to middle America and Nebraska. As the saying went, “Join the Navy and see the world!”

California

By Doris

California was a dramatic change from Adak, with it’s beautiful sun filled days and perfect temperatures. The house and yard were perfect playgrounds for Jennifer and Kent, who now had a treehouse and a sandbox, and a great play area inside next to their bedrooms. Every room had a door to the outside because Don Stivers had a fear of fire and wanted to be able to escape in case of an emergency. However, this now meant that children could also escape without Mom or Dad noticing.  Kent pulled this off one day when he decided to get our mail from the mailbox located at the end of the long winding driveway next to the road! We quickly became more vigilant, especially when things would become strangely quiet!  Jennifer took swimming lessons at the local pool, where we sometimes had to drive through the cool early morning fog.

When we moved in Kent had the chickenpox so I was unable to meet our neighbors the Kline’s right away. Jennifer became acquainted with two of the boys, Steve and Johnny, in their backyard. (Like Meridian our next door neighbors had four boys!) After a few days when Kent was recovered, I met the family and was surprised to learn that Johnny had cerebral palsy, either used crutches or crawled, and had eyes that didn’t focus well. His mother said “he can do everything but mind,” just like any normal kid.

Jennifer never mentioned anything, he was just a kid to play with, and years later in New Orleans a down’s syndrome child Linda, was accepted by the neighborhood children the same way. How great that she saw right past the disabilities. They spent a lot of time together, along with some little girls, Betsy and her sisters. All of the properties were an acre so we were probably among the first to arrange playdates.

Jennifer started kindergarten and became good friends with a little girl named Karen. Fast forward 35 years to Tucson, Arizona and to a golf course at Saddlebrooke where we lived. One day my golf partner was a new resident and as we chatted between holes, we learned that we both had lived in Oakland and our daughters were friends. Jennifer had a class picture standing next to Karen, where Karen has her head turned and is talking. Her mom said they called her Chatty Cathy, after a popular doll.

We spent a lot of time outdoors. When Grandma Mae and Grandpa Rudy came to visit we went to the nearby Knowland Park Zoo and to feed the ducks at Montclair. It was wonderful because Kent was 15 months old, Jennifer was four, and they saw Kent for the first time. Until I was a grandparent I never really understood how that must have been for Grandma.

Our “grown up” lives were centered around the base and the people in the squadron. We hosted a Super Bowl brunch for a huge group. The whole squadron came, including guys on their way to and from flights. It was a great house for a party. I made eggs and muffins with the help of a wife named Dawn, who was almost deaf. She and her husband were young idealists and conflicted about the Vietnam war. He made the unfortunate decision to march in an anti-war parade in full uniform and was gone immediately from the squadron.  

The 1960s were the decade that changed the country, starting in California and Berkeley with the anti-war demonstrations, the counterculture movement, the summer of love in 1967, the founding of the Black Panther movement in 1966, and the advent in 1960 of the birth control pill.

The Black Panthers armed citizen patrols to monitor the behavior of officers in the Oakland Police Department and challenge police brutality in the city. Sound familiar?

When Martin Luther King was assassinated, it was reported that the Black Panthers were marching. The Oakland schools dismissed all students without any pre-planning. Fortunately I had arranged to pick Jennifer up so we escaped the chaos that ensued. 

During the summer of love in 1967, 100,000 people in hippie attire and flowers gathered in Haight Ashbury, opposed to war, against the materialistic society and into poetry, music and meditation. Contrasted with this was the assassination of Bobby Kennedy in 1968 in Los Angeles.

Our friends Ron and Kay Pickett from Meridian were now stationed in Alameda, with their two children Cindi and Brent.  Ron did three tours on a carrier, flying missions over Vietnam and was gone for nine months at a time. Kay, who was married right after high school, used this time to take college courses which eventually led to a degree. To quote an old World War II saying, she was one of “the women who wait for them.”

Don, meanwhile, was busy ferrying servicemen back and forth on the California coast on their way to Vietnam. Days off were rare, but we did manage a few day train trip to Keddie in the mountains, which Jennifer and Kent loved.

Don and I managed a few trips to San Francisco, one of them to the Hungry I, where we saw a young Bill Cosby. The Hungry I was a small, intimate club where you were very close to the stage. We also saw Mort Sahl who was a rather avant-garde comedian. We rode the cable car with an old high school friend one night. Other California memories involved our friends Ceci And Kennedy Snow from Bermuda. They and their children stayed with us for several days on their way back from Kodiak.

For a number of days, Don was speaking with a German accent. Kennedy used to refer to him as Sea Kraut, as in senior Kraut. One night, the four of us went to San Francisco to the top of the Mark at the Mark Hopkins Hotel. We were in the elevator when the door opened and a very proper gentleman entered asking for “twelfths pleese” in a thick German accent. That was all it took, as Ceci and I collapsed in a fit of giggling to the Top of the Mark. Kennedy was an aficionado of lamb, so off we went to the restaurant, Charles. The plaque on the door read “A San Francisco Lambmark.” The bartender who spoke with a passable French accent turned out to be from the Bronx!

The officers Wives Club was the source of a lot of activities, including bridge, which I learned to play in Bermuda so I could be a fourth and available for games, as needed. I never was very good as my mind wandered while playing, and concentration is needed. Also talking was frowned upon! But I did play, anyhow. We went as a group to see Gypsy and also there were the monthly luncheons and squadron picnics. I was secretary of the Officer’s Wives Club and due to become president, but was spared that responsibility, thank goodness, when orders were received to go to New Orleans. Navy orders are interesting, sometimes you have three months notice, this time was two weeks. Coincidentally the Stivers wanted to sell their house, so it was a nice tidy ending. I was so organized we went to a vacation bible school picnic the day before the movers came. I found my calling, I was good at this moving thing!

One interesting Oakland and Skyline Drive fact not to be missed is that Tom Hanks is from Oakland and graduated from Skyline High School!

Seattle and Adak

By Doris

Because of the Seattle World’s Fair in 1962 many apartments were available to rent when Jennifer and I arrived. We found one that took dogs that we rented for two months. In the open area between buildings, the residents would gather and we were instantly part of a community of friendly working people. While Seattle can be very gloomy and rainy much of the year, the months we were there were perfect. Everything we needed was available at nearby Northgate Shopping Center, including a gynecologist, which was a necessity as I was several months pregnant. This was yet another new experience for me — at age 28 I had never lived on my own! Jennifer and I had a great two months, seeing the space needle, swimming in the pool and having occasional meals with the very friendly community.

Housing in Adak became available and it was time to leave. The next hurdle was to get Chris into the crate provided by the airline.  The creative solution was to throw his ball into it, and he cooperatively chased after it.  Problem solved! We were off to Adak and our new home, anxious to be together again.

The Aleutian Islands were a special place to me. During World War II, my older cousin Freddie (the son of my father’s cousin Fred) was stationed there with the Seabees. The Seabees were responsible for building runways with Marston matting and support facilities. In 1943 when I was seven, I wrote to Freddie at Christmas. He responded, telling me that he was working near Santa’s workshop, and assured me that Santa would be bringing me many toys. Here I was 20 years later living near Santa’s workshop!

Our military quarters were very nice and well maintained.  Adak would be the only time we would live on a military base, and it was a great experience. We were very happy to be together as a family. Don built Jennifer an igloo, not an easy task as it meant accumulating snow, which blew in sideways, courtesy of the ever present wind. They also went fishing at Lake Andrew, home of some very big fish, especially if you were three years old!

Our family was about to grow by one. Kent Steven Lidke was born at 3:33 on January 3, 1965, a month past his expected due date. December was a very long month but we had a wonderful Christmas with Jennifer. The base hospital was staffed with doctors, nurses, and hospital corpsmen. The hospital corpsman assisting with Kent’s delivery was experiencing his first birth and I think he was more excited than I was! To our surprise, Kent was born with a full head of red hair! We had to reach back three generations to find Aunt Kate, Grandma Louise’s sister, to find red hair.

Jennifer now had a new baby brother who she happily showed off to her nursery school friends. We dubbed them the Lavender Hill mob. Some days were nice and the kids could play outdoors. One day they decided to pay a call on the commanding officer’s wife and just appeared at her door. She graciously received them. Another Saturday morning they went to visit their nursery school teacher, Miss Sue, a Navy wife, who was surprised to see them on her day off. There was also a television show put on by Miss Marie, the wife of Larry Philips, who flew with Don through an area of extreme turbulence which Don has written about.

Wally Baloo with the News

The adults did not lack for entertainment, as a group put on a show called Aleutian Antics. Don was “Wally Baloo” and our good friend Bill King from Bermuda was the MC. He and his wife Phyllis had recently arrived on Adak. It’s a small Navy at times. Bill was the ultimate showman in his white suit. I was recruited to do makeup because I once did it for a little theatre group in Meridian. Bill claimed I made him look like Charlie Chan. A series of skits depicting life on Adak began, from potholes swallowing volkswagens to the supply ship arriving without lettuce but cases of sauerkraut juice. The commissary officer would roll cans of sauerkraut juice down the aisle in the commissary to get rid of them to unsuspecting shoppers. A chorus line of wives showing their legs performed, along with one set of hairy legs belonging to Larry Philips!

And then there were the earthquakes. We learned to always take a robe into the shower in case a quick exit was necessary. Weather in the winter was mostly gray, with high winds blowing sideways. At 3 pm the school bus would drive down the street with headlights on. In the summer it was light until 10pm, not sunny, just light. I decided to order a baby carriage so Kent could enjoy some fresh air. It arrived from Montgomery Ward but it didn’t last long as a baby carriage, as a williwaw came up one day and started to carry the carriage down the street, with Kent in it. Mr. Toad’s wild ride! After that it was used to haul groceries.

The quarters were all drab gray, as were the dumpsters beside them. One night an enterprising group decided to paint one in bright colors. It was such a hit people adopted their own dumpsters and decorated them. It turned dumpster world into a garden of color and creativity.

When Don was promoted to LCDR we had a “wetting down” party in our quarters for a standing room only crowd of our many friends…it’s a great Navy tradition.

The Navy offered R and R trips to the mainland  (rest and recuperation) and so began my very first camping trip with an almost four year old and a seven month old active baby. We rented a cab over camper and were on our way. We made a playpen area in the back for Kent in the back (pre-car seat and seat belt days) hard to believe now, and Don, Jennifer and I rode in front. As we were traveling along, I looked back to check on Kent to find him standing up for the first time! It was a wonderful trip in a very beautiful state, but not a whole lot of R and R! Once when I wanted to take a picture of a reindeer I handed Kent to a complete stranger. Anything for a picture, it became a mantra for my picture taking through the years.

Our Adak adventure came to an end and it was on to California and more culture shock, as we moved to Oakland, near Berkeley, a center of everything new that was happening in the 1960s, the decade that changed the country. 

The Meridian Years

By Doris

Meridian was a lovely old Southern town with stately homes and large beautiful trees.  It was a culture shock, but an interesting one, for someone from New Jersey. The segregated bus station served a delicious “chick steak” sandwich, but only if you were white. The only real restaurant was Dahlkes, a very attractive family restaurant, with good food and a jar of peanut butter on each table. There were no fast food restaurants — McDonald’s and Burger King were founded in 1955 and hadn’t yet arrived in Mississisippi.  We were part of a dinner group of young naval officers and their wives, in their mid twenties. The group (without us that night) went to the Chunky River Fish Camp, decked out in their finest outfits with high heels and the occasional fur stole. It was reverse culture shock for the folks at the fish camp. They dined on delicious fried catfish served on paper plates.

The people of Meridian, second largest city in Mississippi, met the outside world when the Navy arrived. It was a provincial place, and since we bought a house in town, we were their window into that world. I learned as much from them as they learned from us. The best way to experience a place is to live locally, not on base.

We bought a small house under construction in a new development, and our very nice realtor set us up in a rental apartment in town. It was immaculate, with one major drawback. Everything was painted maroon, including the floors, the paneling and the kitchen table! We arrived in August, put our window air conditioner in the bedroom, and pretty much lived there. Temperatures there are in the 90s in August. At that point I was eight months pregnant.

Jennifer Louise Lidke was born on September 9, 1961, a day before her due date, a precursor of her lifelong characteristic of always being on time and never keeping anyone waiting!

She was named for my Grandmother who unfortunately passed away the year before.  Her first two weeks were spent looking at maroon walls, hence her excellent eye for colors (but not maroon)!

Jennifer was born at Anderson Infirmary in town. There was no military hospital, and the two obstetricians in town did a lot of business when the Navy came to town. Upon entering the hospital at 9PM we were asked “may I help you?” to which Don replied “Yes, she has come to have her tonsils out.”  When we left the next day we were sent on our way with a nice Southern sendoff with “Y’all come back now, hear?” I wasn’t in a hurry to return, even though Jennifer was very considerate, arriving in 5 hours at 1:39 AM on Saturday morning. And she has always been considerate, another early trait. When she was two weeks old we moved to our new house and her life as a Navy brat began. The term brat is a fond term to acknowledge the children of military families and the difficulties they face in always being “the new kid” in frequent moves.

Inez, our next door neighbor and Mississippi native, had four boys, and doted on Jennifer.  Her husband worked for the railroad and left very early each morning, as did Don, who had 6 AM launches in training flight students.  By 9 AM, Inez and I would be sitting in our front yards watching the rest of the world going to work. Inez had never known a northerner, and in those hours we became good friends comparing the differences between us, and also celebrating the ways we were alike.

And then there was Lucy, also someone from whom I learned a lot.  She was a 37 year old black woman, (same age as Inez) who worked for us once a week, cleaning, babysitting and ironing sunsuits that Grandma Mae had made for Jennifer. We ironed before permanent press existed.

She did all of this for $3 a day. Local people were not happy with us, the going rate was $2 a day! She came by bus in a white ironed uniform, was a mother of four and lived in a very small unpainted home. The differences between us were extreme. She ironed her uniform on an upturned dresser drawer until I gave her an ironing board. She loved Jennifer. When we left Meridian on our way to Adak, Alaska, I gave her many things, including Jennifer’s small plastic wading pool. I learned years later that Jennifer was not happy about that, when she said indignantly “You gave Lucy my wading pool!” Jennifer was 3 years old, and that may be her first memory.

Lucy was the aunt of James Chaney, a young man who was registering black people to vote, along with two young white northern men. They were killed by local klansmen. Don tells their story. When we left Meridian they were missing. Black people were very weary of saying anything to any white people, so civil rights never came up with Lucy. A navy friend who was stationed in Louisiana at the time was a real idealist and was helping and encouraging a young black girl who worked for her. Someone set their house on fire and they lost a lot. There were many good sides to the people there. Things were not always black and white, many shades in between existed, which I was glad to learn while I lived there among them.

Among friends we made in the military in Meridian, one in particular is historic. JB McKamey was shot down on a mission in Vietnam, flying from a carrier. Others who saw it said there was no way he survived. As it turned out, he did and was a prisoner at the Hanoi Hilton for eight years, but officially he was considered missing in action. The Navy told his wife, but she was not able to tell anyone because they did not want to compromise their intelligence sources in Vietnam. We saw him in the news when they showed the prisoners on the plane following their release.

We left Meridian enroute to Adak, Alaska in the summer of 1964. It turned out I was pregnant in the middle of another move! Lucy predicted it would be a boy, just by looking at me! Jennifer, Chris and I lived in Seattle for two months, waiting for housing to become available at Adak, and so another chapter begins.

Bermuda, via Caneel Bay and San Juan

By Doris

Caneel Bay was a beautiful picturesque resort on St. John in the Virgin Islands, a perfect place for a honeymoon. Beautiful beaches, secluded coves, lovely rooms and delicious meals served in a gorgeous outdoor setting. We arrived by boat from St. Thomas and were greeted warmly at the dock by several hospitable employees, some of whom were native to the Virgin Islands. These “locals” would prove to be part of the great charm of the resort.  

Each morning we would have breakfast, choosing from a buffet of all kinds of fruits, juices, pastries, muffins, meats and omelets, prepared at an omelet station. Don became great friends with the very friendly omelet chef, a black native lady, as he made his omelet choice every day!  Several dining rooms were available for evening meals, allowing us to go casual, informal or very formal. Each choice was better than the next and we sampled all of them!  

We spent a lot of time at the various beaches swimming in crystal clear waters, then warming on the beach, being careful to use a lot of sunscreen. Easy to get a painful sunburn in the Caribbean. The first “disagreement” in our marriage came when we went out together in a sunfish, a small sailboat-like craft available to guests. I soon learned that one had to tack and duck while sailing along or get hit in the head with the boom, and also it was necessary to listen to the captain’s directions. If not working together it was possible to become becalmed, which we did. At one point I threatened to jump overboard, not too dangerous in the shallow water.  Don sailed ashore somehow and we parked the sunfish. Shortly after a young girl came along, asked if she could use it and sailed off into the sunset! I don’t know if my nautical terms are correct, but you get the picture!

Another day we took a Jeep tour with a guide, learning the history of St. John. Caneel Bay Resort had  been the site of a thriving sugar plantation run by slaves. St. John was owned by Denmark, and following a slave revolt in St. Croix, a neighboring island, on July 3, 1848 slavery was abolished. The plantations became unprofitable and were gradually abandoned. Some of the properties became homes for former slaves. In 1917 the US bought St. John from Denmark.

Laurence Rockefeller acquired property on St. John and in 1956 donated land to become part of the national park system. At the time of our trip in 1960, Caneel Bay was a “Rock” resort that employed many descendants of the slaves. They were wonderful people who gave us an insight into a culture established over many years. When we returned 50 years later we were introduced to two old men who had been employed there in 1960 during our honeymoon! Many employees had similar longevity with Caneel Bay. It was a pleasure to see many of them arrive by boat in the morning.

We reluctantly left Caneel Bay and continued our trip enroute to Bermuda, via San Juan, Puerto Rico, which turned into another adventure! When we appeared at the airport in San Juan we learned that our flight to Bermuda had been cancelled and there wouldn’t be another for several days! Communication in 1960 was limited to telephone calls or mail and since neither of us received any messages, there we were stranded with nothing to do but enjoy Puerto Rico! 

Don remembers that I almost climbed over the counter because I was so upset, possibly because I had a suitcase full of dirty clothes! We became inventive in our finances which Don has written about and enjoyed an extended honeymoon in San Juan. An opportunity to use our high school Spanish. Don has colorfully described our stay there.

We eventually made it to Bermuda and our new home. Don had rented the upper level of a wonderful cottage overlooking the water. Our landlord was a young Bermudian man who had built it and he lived on the lower level. It was furnished very comfortably with Navy furniture, had a lovely fireplace and a wringer washing machine. Since there was no natural water supply on the island, our water would come via a water ketch on our roof. This eliminated the possibility of automatic washing machines that used a lot of water. The water in the wringer washer was used three times: the first time for whites, the second time for colors and lastly dark colors! Don was taken aback to come home one day to see me using the machine in my bare feet with water puddled on the floor! I had definitely gone native.

When we arrived in Bermuda and Don checked in at the squadron, he learned that our wedding gifts had arrived. He was astonished to see that one whole wall was lined with boxes! We had received many gifts and I realized that the best way to ship them would be to send them via his mailing address, c/o FPO, NY. New York was close to NJ and I had to pay postage only from NJ to NY. Every few days as gifts arrived I packaged them up and trekked to the local post office with them. I got to know the local postmistress so well she came to our wedding!

I was warmly received by everyone in the squadron and our friendships have continued for 60 years. It was great to be young in Bermuda with a group of fun loving people who knew how to appreciate the life we had there. Some of the wives were barely 21 and had met their husbands there during a spring break and married in the next year, followed sometimes by babies nine months later!

One of the wives was a Bermudian nurse who came to stay with me while our husbands were on a squadron assignment. She was pregnant and late one night her baby decided it was time to make his debut! This was outside my area of expertise so of course it became necessary to call someone. One small problem, we didn’t have a telephone! I was a newly minted driver and was now on the ride of my young driving life transporting her to the hospital! It all ended well and my first delivery was a success. It wasn’t unusual to be incommunicado in Bermuda at that time, because services could be a little primitive. If you were needed or someone needed to bring you a message, they would come by car at 20 mph to deliver it. Life in the fast lane hadn’t arrived in Bermuda!

Other friends were evicted from their house and made arrangements to move into base housing. Unfortunately they had no place to go while waiting. Since we had a spare bedroom (no bed) we invited them to stay with us while waiting. Good plan, very gracious of us. One small problem, they had four cats and we had one German Shepherd! But what the heck, we could manage this menagerie! They arrived with their bed strapped on top of their car and the cats. The Beverly Hillbillies had nothing on us. We settled in — Ceci, Kennedy, Maureen the mother cat, the three offspring, Don, Chris the dog and I. So far so good. Suddenly there was a commotion in the living room and a couple of loud crashes accompanied by some meows, and we arose to find Chris had chased the cats into the fireplace and up the chimney! We rescued Maureen and her brood, settled them all down and went back to bed. Unfortunately over the course of their stay with us, all of the cats save Maureen went missing. We had to go around the area one night calling Maureen, who was one traumatized cat. Also we had to be gentle with Ceci.

Part of military life is inspections, for which Don needed his full white uniform, including shoes.  We assembled everything the night before, except shoes. Where were the shoes? Since we were newly moved into our house, things were organized haphazardly. (I guess that is a contradiction in terms.) Anyhow we couldn’t find the shoes. This was the first major crisis of our married life! Searching high and low, suddenly a lightbulb went off in my head! I knew where they were, they were in the banjo case! Of course! Where else would they be but in the spare bedroom in the banjo case? Funny part is, Don had no banjo, but the case was the perfect size for storing shoes. The banjo is a story for another time!

We had many wonderful times with our friends, enjoying dinner at each other’s houses, even though I learned to cook under the watchful eyes of some bachelors. Many great meals were had at some of the unique Bermuda restaurants. For a little historical context, I remember eating outdoors at night and watching Sputnik travel across the sky. An experience to remember.

One of the major past times while the guys were deployed was bridge. Because I had no children and a car, I became a reliable bridge player. Reliable only in that I could travel unencumbered to play; I didn’t know the game. No problem, they would teach me, and after a fashion they did. I loved being part of their games and the dinners they would make and the camaraderie of military wives coming together. We knew we were enjoying military life at a special time in a special place.

Another part of my Bermuda experience was learning to drive, on the wrong side of the road in a Volkswagen with a steering wheel on the left side. And Don was teaching me. He is a natural born teacher, but unfortunately didn’t teach me how to back up! As part of the driving exam it was required that you back up through a course of orange stanchions, without knocking any of them over. Well, of course I failed the test. My reward was now I had to drive with a BIG red letter L for Learner on the front and back of the car. I was a Scarlet Woman! Back to the water ketch for another lesson! As a side note, every time we changed duty stations I had to get a new license and pass more tests, but none were more colorful than Bermuda!

Don’s tour was coming to an end after 15 fantastic months and orders would be coming. It was a wonderful place to start a new life. It was truly life changing for me and now a new life was going to begin in Mississippi, as I was now pregnant!

Getting Acquainted and the Wedding

By Doris

After Don took me home and returned to the Navy and Bermuda, our letter writing began. Don wrote letters then as well as he has written stories and recounted memories for this project! Unlike email, letters from Bermuda took some time. He vividly described his daily life with the Navy, living in the Bachelor’s Officers quarters and the many other colorful characters who lived there. My letters depicting life at the bank were not nearly as exciting. Letter writing is a lost art and it enabled us to slowly get to know each other.  

Following my recovery from a dislocated hip and fractured pelvis, I went back to work. With some vacation remaining it seemed like a good idea to make a second trip to Bermuda and learn about life at the Naval base. And to meet some of the characters Don was writing about. I stayed at a picture perfect cottage colony and we had a wonderful few days exploring the island and eating delicious food at unique restaurants. In August, Don returned to NJ and I showed him our summer cottage in Bay Head. Later on I spent another week with Ceci and Kennedy and their many cats at their cottage. 

One evening they hosted an outdoor party, complete with a beautiful view. Guests were in dresses and the men wore Bermuda shorts with knee socks, coats, and ties, very Bermudian. Rum was one of the drinks served, rum in Bermuda was cheaper than coke and so was very popular with our young early twenties group. In retrospect it seems like we were playing at being grown ups, but it sure was a lot of fun! It was a special group and the friendships made there have endured. To be young in the Navy in Bermuda in the 1950s was a truly unique experience. When Don asked me to marry him it was the start of many adventures in other places, but nothing could ever compare to Bermuda. 

Wedding planning went smoothly. I had been a bridesmaid four times, living out the saying then of “always a bridesmaid, never a bride!” My stepmother Joyce and I shopped for a wedding gown and years later Jennifer wore it at her wedding. Bridesmaids wore dresses in my favorite color, cornflower blue. Wedding pictures are black and white, as color photography was in its infancy.

Our wedding rehearsal dinner was at Grandpa Rudy and Grandma Mae’s House, and was a great success, until the kitchen sink backed up, no garbage disposals then. Don saved the evening using humor to deflect from “the soup” in the sink!

Festivities leading up to our wedding included wedding showers given by my friends. The most popular gift was an egg poacher, three of them to be exact, as Don had let everyone know how much he loved poached eggs. I didn’t know how to cook and I hated poached eggs!

Our wedding and reception at a restaurant was perfect, with a mixture of relatives, friends and even Andy, who had painted houses with Don. Andy and his wife were Italian, and in the Italian tradition gave us money in an envelope as a wedding gift. This, and other cash gifts, came in handy when we were delayed in Puerto Rico enroute to Bermuda!

There was one special person missing from our wedding and we went back to my house to say goodbye to my Grandma. Weakened by a bout with the flu, she couldn’t attend and stayed with her sister, my great aunt Kate. It was a bittersweet moment; she was always the quiet presence in our home who had promised my mother she would look after us and I knew I would miss her.

Don had rented a Corvair and when we went outside the car was missing!  Our house was on a hill and some of my playful friends had released the brake and rolled it down the hill. We climbed into the car and away we went, me in my “going away” outfit complete with corsage, and Don in a coat and tie, on our way to Caneel Bay!

More 1950s Stories and Meeting Don

By Doris

All of my friends were now in college, some four year colleges and some two year junior colleges. Some of my classmates went to Katharine Gibbs Secretarial School in New York City to become executive secretaries in search of the glass ceiling. Mal, one of my best friends, went to a local college and was always ready to go to New York to see a Broadway show. Our mode of transportation was a bus to the New York Port Authority Terminal and then on to the theatre district, which in the 1950s showcased musicals that have become classics and are now popular revivals.

My Fair Lady, with Julie Andrews at 19, was the hottest ticket in town, along with West Side Story and Chita Rivera. One was set in London and portrayed a young cockney girl and the other was in New York City showing young Puerto Rican girls and a different culture. Fifty years later when the revival of West Side Story played in Naples Jennifer, Kelly, Laurie and I went to see it at the Philharmonic. Great to share it with them. Sitting next to me was an older lady who had also seen the original in New York in the fifties. 

Some other great shows we saw were Damn Yankees, the Pajama Game, Auntie Mame, The Boy Friend, Guys and Dolls and Once Upon A Mattress with Carol Burnett. Competing with the musicals were some great dramas by Tennessee Williams and Eugene O’Neill, Tea and Sympathy, Long Day’s Journey Into Night, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and A Doll House. Some were over my head at the time, but I felt like a sophisticated New Yorker in the moment!  

Years later it was wonderful to see Jennifer and Kent participating in shows in Summit High School led by Phyllis Armstrong, a music teacher whose great talent in working with young people produced many wonderful shows.

Some of the big names of the era were Frank Sinatra and Louie Armstrong. Although we were not part of the 1940s swooning girls at Sinatra’s concerts seen in old newsreels, we were big fans and saw him twice. He was a skinny kid from Hoboken, NJ who was now a huge success.  Louis Armstrong at the Ballroom was a great showman and opened our eyes to a new culture. Sammy Davis Jr. had an enormous booming voice and had several hit records before he was in Mr. Wonderful, with the Will Mastin trio, his father and uncle. Television was in its infancy and I had never seen a picture of him. When the curtain opened and this big booming voice came out of this tiny black man I almost fell out of my seat!

When our New York evenings ended it was time to return to reality so we ended with a cheeseburger at  the Port Authority Bus Terminal, which had the best cheeseburgers I have ever tasted!

One time, my friend Jeannine’s dad won a go-go mobile (a tiny car) as a door prize at a shoe convention in New York City. It had to be picked up there so I went with Jeannine to claim it. Jeannine’s dad was 6’4” tall and her brothers were even taller. Jeannine was 5’ 9”. These were very big people for the 1950s, winning a very tiny car! Jeannine, being the smallest, became the prime user of the car. But first, we had to negotiate the streets of New York and the Lincoln Tunnel to return to New Jersey, hoping the other drivers would see us in our toy car. It was so light weight it was sliding a little on the floor of the tunnel. We survived and Jeannine used the car to drive to the train station to commute to New York and to drive to the Jersey shore. One time she returned to find it picked up and moved a block away, another time it turned up on the porch of a house we had rented at the shore!  

Ft. Lauderdale was the most popular spring break place in the fifties and Mal and I and a college friend of hers decided to take part. On my bank stationery, masquerading as a responsible adult, I made reservations for us at a nice motel, we had tickets for our first plane trip and off we went. Somehow we were able to rent a convertible and were now ready for a fantastic week of sun and fun. I loved Ft. Lauderdale and marveled at the beautiful boats, homes, and scenery. 

Spring break was everything we hoped for, one big party on a beautiful beach with many people we knew from our hometown, we hated to leave. Turned out leaving wasn’t easy. In those days it was necessary to reconfirm your return plane reservations, which we should have known but didn’t. So our tickets were invalid and we had to find a new way home, and it definitely wasn’t going to be in our rented convertible! Being enterprising young ladies we were able to get reservations on a train from Miami to Newark, the only drawback was it was an 18 hour trip. We spent many of those hours in the club car talking and laughing about a truly unforgettable trip!

My second plane trip was with Mal and Jeannine when we went to Quebec in Canada and stayed at the truly grand Chateau Frontenac. This trip was Jeannine’s idea and it was in April, off season in Quebec. It was so off season it was like having our own private chateau. We loved the old historic city and enjoyed the wonderful small restaurants and shops. I was able to use a little of my high school French and experience a foreign culture for the first time. And we remembered to confirm our return plane reservations!

As my friends graduated from college and started working, some in New York in advertising agencies and publishing companies, we started to spend weekends at the Jersey shore, mainly Bay Head. For two years we rented a large house for the summer, which we used on weekends and for our vacations. During the week we would rent it to married acquaintances, which worked out well financially. Many groups of young working people were also renting houses and on weekends I got a taste of what college party weekends were like. There was always something fun going on somewhere in Bay Head on the weekends in the summer and great memories were made. The fifties were a carefree decade and it was a great time to be young!

The best trip of the fifties was my trip to Bermuda with my friend and neighbor, June. Bermuda was also a premier place for spring break, but June was now employed in New York so this was part of our annual two week vacation. The Elbow Beach Hotel was on the beach and offered the American plan, which meant that breakfast, lunch and dinner came as part of the vacation package. I doubt that this exists anymore, but we took full advantage of it. This meant that on the night that changed my life I was not going to miss dinner! 

We had gone to the hotel mixer, had drinks and met two very nice young naval officers, Don Lidke and Fred Easter. As events unfolded later we joined them in Don’s Volkswagen bug, with June in the front with Don and me in the back with Fred, and away we went. Where we were going I don’t recall, but coral walls got in the way! June hit the windshield and Fred and I connected at the hip and when we stopped June had a bloody nose and I couldn’t walk properly.  Something was out of sync, including my hip and pelvis. 

This was when Don sprang into action and we went to the hospital. My choices were to go into traction at the hospital or go home.  Home was the choice, especially now that I knew Don was from my hometown and would go with us! I knew he was special when we were able to joke and laugh about things on the plane going home. We have been laughing together ever since!

Working Years

By Doris

Doris and father at the bank

Following graduation in 1953, I began working at the bank where my father had worked for 25 years. Fidelity Union Trust Company was New Jersey’s largest bank then. Banks could only operate within one county at that time and could not cross state lines. The main office was in Newark in Essex County and my job was in the Personnel Department, now known as Human Resources. There were six of us, including the Personnel Director, Mr. Weisleder, who knew me from the day I was born. So I benefited from a little nepotism plus a family friendship, no interview needed! 

My job as receptionist was to greet people, give three tests, and type and file letters using carbon paper to make copies. Correcting a mistake meant making erasures on multiple copies, a messy proposition. Whiteout did not exist until it was invented by Michael Nesmith’s mother. A bit of trivia, Michael was a member of the popular rock group, the Monkees. Progress was coming, and one day some elaborate equipment was set up to replace carbon paper and whiteout. The operation of this machine was very involved, feeding paper through lights, chemicals, and some kind of liquid bath in a back room. The finished product was dark and not very readable and I thought to myself, “this will never fly.” How wrong I was, this was the genesis of the Xerox machine and the demise of carbon paper!

Our hours were the standard “9 to 5,” made popular by Dolly Parton in the movie 9 to 5 years later. We had one hour for lunch and I would go out to one of the many lunch counters nearby, sometimes with others or else alone. I loved going out to lunch! The first time I went “out to lunch” I was ten years old and a friend and I went to a restaurant at the top of a hill near my home in South Orange. I had 75 cents to spend and in 1946, that covered a roast beef sandwich (35 cents), a coke (10 cents), a hot fudge sundae (25 cents), with 5 cents left for a tip! I was very proud of myself. Today I am a much better tipper.

Every morning my father and I walked a mile to the bus stop for a 30 minute trip to Newark. After a time a small group of fellow travelers sat together in the back of the bus. It was an unusual mix and a very interesting cast of characters, brought together by our neighbor, Mrs. Dutton. Her husband had retired early so she decided to go to work as a receptionist. A woman ahead of her time. She was so outgoing that this diverse group of people bonded and enjoyed our commute together for several years.

Our group in the Personnel Department consisted of a Vice President, Personnel Director, Assistant Personnel Director, Jobs Analyst, receptionist and a Personnel Assistant/executive secretary. The job of executive secretary was the highest rung of the ladder for women in business in the 1950s. The “glass ceiling” did not exist. In our department the executive secretary was easily qualified for a true executive position and was married with a five year old son.  

Women accepted these limitations. It was company policy that pregnant women would leave when they started “to show.” These were accepted conditions throughout the business world at that time. 

The bank was actually a very caring place and at times carried employees at full salary during year long illnesses. My father, along with many others, was a member of the Quarter Century Club, people who had worked there for more than 25 years, some as many as 45 years, by the time they retired at 65, the mandatory retirement age. Many of these people were lifelong friends, and knew me, my father, and had known my mother. It was truly an extended family.

As a footnote to progress, a girl who was hired in 1954 in a clerical position became a Vice President in 1979, after 25 years with the company.

My immediate boss, the assistant personnel director, was quite progressive. When he needed additional workers for a temporary clerical project he recruited older women (in their forties!) from his church and through current bank employees. Most of them had been stay-at-home wives and mothers. They took to the job like ducks to water and did a terrific job. Some of them became permanent employees and voila! A new untapped workforce was born.

The bank put out a monthly magazine called The Fidelions, for which Personnel was responsible for producing articles about employees. The company paid for employees who wished to take American Institute of Banking courses.

We had a company picnic, a Miss Fidelity Union was selected, and we had a bowling team. Each week we crossed town after work by bus, ate dinner and bowled, returning home by bus, after dark, in Newark! Impossible to do now in 2019. The city has changed.

Each summer our boss would host a picnic at his family cabin at a lake in a beautiful area of New Jersey. We were after all the “Garden State!” At Christmas there would be a party at his house, including husbands and wives. Mr. Britain would ask us what we would like to have for dinner. His wife was of Swedish descent so we chose a smorgasbord — Swedish meatballs, pickled herring, etc. — without realizing just how much work was involved. A simple roast would have been a simpler choice, but that never occurred to me until Don and I were married.  

Doris, Herb, and Carol

Have I mentioned that I didn’t learn to cook until I was married? My grandma and Joyce (my stepmother) cooked all of the dinners and although I loved to eat I wasn’t motivated to cook! I excelled at drying dishes — we all have talents! Doing dishes in the 1950s was a nightly ritual in most homes. There were washers and dryers and conversations covering a lot of topics.  Dishwashers were coming in the future, along with with electric washing machines. My grandma used a washboard in the basement, along with a wringer washer and we dried clothes on a clothesline in the backyard using clothespins. At one point we had an actual ice box where the iceman would deliver a block of ice for refrigeration. And there were no freezers, even in our first electric refrigerator, so ice cream was a rare treat which we had after a Sunday drive to the Alderney milk barn. Sunday drives and a midday Sunday dinner were a highlight of the week. Hard to believe now but NO businesses were open on Sundays, and malls were nonexistent!

Mama Leone’s was a famous New York restaurant and our little troop from the bank decided to go there for dinner. At 17 I had not been to many restaurants so this was a very big deal, I had never seen a menu with so many choices. It was surprising to learn that spaghetti (my favorite) was only one of several courses! And then was an entire meal with dessert yet to come! My culinary education was off and running, and still continues. A funny story involving tipping at a restaurant happened on one rare occasion when the Karg family (seven of us, including Grandma) went out to dinner. Finishing dinner, we were all on the way out, when Herbie who was about five and lagging behind, came running up to my father with a dollar bill in his hand, exclaiming loudly that Daddy forgot his money! The dollar of course was the tip on a meal for seven people in 1949!

Another bank outing took us to the Empire Burlesque in Newark. I don’t recall whose idea this was but at 18 I could legally attend and Burlesque was still big in the fifties, live entertainment with funny skits and comedians and scantily clad girls. This was not to be missed! Many comedians like Bob Hope, George Burns and Gracie Allen got their start in Burlesque and went on to great success in television and movies. It was a great show live, musical and very funny, with risqué jokes that went over my head but a part of history I got to see. Here at our retirement community, American House, we have a friend whose father was on the vaudeville circuit, with his five piece band and their own troupe. Ruth’s Dad was the smallest in stature so he always had to play the girl’s part. Ruth, her mother, and sister often traveled with them and like a sponge, she can sing routines that she learned as a child around these guys who were like family. The pictures she has are priceless.

Growing Up in South Orange

By Doris

Our move to South Orange in 1944 was exciting. Our family now had a new addition, my brother Herbie. When my dad married my stepmother, Joyce Miller, whom he met at the bank, we celebrated at a dinner at a restaurant. My choice from a large menu was grapefruit and spaghetti, still favorites. Their honeymoon was a trip by train to Detroit to visit a cousin! When Joyce married my dad she was 24 years old and now had a ready made family: children who were two, seven and thirteen, plus a live-in mother-law.  Not exactly the Brady Bunch, but unusual in our own way. Joyce was from a family of 11 children and went to foster care when she was five when her parents divorced. At 18, she aged out of foster care, moved to NJ, and got a job at the bank while living in a boarding house.

Our “new” family now lived in a nice four bedroom house on a hill in South Orange. One bathroom had a shower of all things! But no bathrooms were on the first floor, so we had one of the first stair masters, climbing the stairs many times a day as nature dictated!

When school started I was placed in third grade, even though I had already had a half year of third grade in Newark, where you could begin school in January. This became a problem because apparently I was bored. Joyce pled my case and after picture IQ tests, I was moved to fourth grade. That change was the foundation of four friendships that have endured for 75 years, through high school, college, weddings, children and grandchildren. One of those friends recounted once that when she met me, she told her mother, “I met the nicest girl today-her name is Doris Ethel Karg.” Evidently she felt it important to use my full name!

I loved school and reading. My dad said I could read before I started school. The first library book I checked out was “Deborah” — no recollection of the story, just the title. The public library was a revelation and I was most anxious to move “upstairs” to the adult library. Reading became as essential to me as breathing. Each week at school we received the “weekly reader,” which was the highlight of the week. 

We went home for lunch, ate fast, and raced back to play softball on the huge playground. One of the players who was our pitcher became a cloistered nun. After school we changed clothes and went outside to play. There was nothing to do inside, no TV, no video games, no computers, so it was boring. We played hopscotch, A my name is Alice with a bouncing ball, hide and seek and, of course, softball. 

Our backyard bordered a large field, perfect for softball, and a very large house, that originally was bought by Thomas Edison for his daughter when she married. Thomas Edison’s lab was in West Orange. In the summer we cooled off by running through the hose and sitting in a large wading pool. There was no air conditioning, except in movie theatres. Every Friday night my grandmother and I went to the movies, and today I am an expert at old movies in Trivial Pursuit.

And then there was winter. We would take our sleds and go up and down the hill in front of our house, avoiding any cars that might appear. Our town had a pond for ice skating and a warming hut with a fire where you could warm your feet. Night time skating was special under the lights.  Ours was a tight knit group of boys and girls who at our 55th high school reunion could recall those days clearly.

Our high school was excellent and most students went on to college, but a common school of thought was that it was necessary for boys but not for girls. Girls would be getting married and wouldn’t need a job, but boys would need to support a family. Economics played a big roll also. In high school I did college prep classes (French, history, math, etc.) although college wasn’t the plan. I loved French and Mr. Fleming, the French teacher. l took French for three years and the highlight was reading Les Miserables. The United Nations was founded then and I thought it would be great to be an interpreter.  

High school centered on football games, movies, and slumber parties, where the latest boyfriends would be discussed. We also did a lot of driving back and forth between South Orange and Maplewood; the towns shared Columbia High School. It was true cruising to see who was doing what. The car radio was always playing and those songs are still playing in my head today as I think about high school.  

A friend and I got jobs working in a department store at Christmas in Newark. My job was in ladies lingerie, selling nightgowns, robes, slips, and half slips. Few people wear slips today but Vanity Fair was a big brand then. We worked until school ended. I earned money to pay for senior week. I loved working there and could have stayed but didn’t want to work Saturdays!  

To top off our senior year was senior week. Most people went to the Jersey shore. Ten of us stayed at a small hotel where we had three meals a day, went to the beach and celebrated graduation to come. Two mothers went as chaperones to see that we behaved; we spent a lot of time avoiding them, they were really good sports. On graduation night, a group of us went to the twilight roof at the Astor Hotel in New York where the Harry James band was playing and Mel Torme was singing. I have the menu still with their autographs and drinks were 25 cents. You could drink in New York at 18. We thought we were really something. We took a bus back to NJ and had breakfast at a classmate’s house to top off the evening. As they say “those were the days,” really great times and memories. And each memory triggers 10 more! More to come.

Childhood Memories

By Doris

One of my earliest memories is being behind a couch when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. I think we were playing hide and seek. I was five years old, having been born on March 5, 1936. There was a great air of excitement but I was never frightened, probably because I didn’t really understand what was happening. Everyday life continued for us. I played with my friend Dale Rowley, who was the little boy who lived in the magical house on the corner. There was a fish pond and a grape arbor and it was a fun place to play.  

Every Christmas Eve my father dressed up as Santa Claus and delivered presents to us. Because we were so excited we never realized my father was missing, or suspected he was Santa. Our Christmas tree was beautiful and I loved the tinsel strands that were hung one by one. Underneath the tree was a village, complete with little mirror ponds and tiny animals.

I had an older sister Marian, born in 1930, and a younger sister Carol born in 1941. My mother was Ethel Galm Karg and my father was Herbert William Karg, starting the all-German tradition carried on when I married Grandpa, Don Lidke!

Foods in particular stand out when I look back at those early years: making tiny apple turnovers (a very popular dessert at the time) from apple pie remnants with my mother, pineapple upside down cake (who would bake a cake upside down?), Sunday night waffles that were my father’s specialty, and the ever popular tomato soup and crackers for lunch. Getting new shoes was an adventure because you got to put your feet in a fluoroscope machine and could look down and see all of your toes and learn if the shoes were big enough. Turns out too many x-rays were not good for you, so they were discontinued. Fortunately I still have all of my toes, so far!  My love of the beach began when I was little as every summer we went to Belmar, at the Jersey shore where it was fun to run in and out of the waves. There was a great merry go round at Asbury Park. There are many good memories of those years for which I am grateful.

In 1942 we lost my mother. She went into the hospital to have a hysterectomy due to some problems. It was a fairly commonplace operation at the time, but you were hospitalized for a couple of weeks. She was about to come home when bleeding started and despite transfusions, the doctors couldn’t save her. It was very hard to understand at six. My grandma, Louise Karg who had been a widow for many years, came immediately to live with us. She was a wonderful lady, who at age 70 came to take care of three girls, ages one, six and twelve. My father was remarkable, carrying on with his job at the bank in Newark NJ. where he worked for 45 years. I worked at the same bank for seven years in personnel, now known as Human Resources, before Grandpa and I were married in 1960.

Life changed again in 1943 when my dad married my stepmother, Joyce Miller, and my brother Herbie was born in 1944. In 1945 we moved to South Orange, where Grandma had $10,000 that she gave my dad to buy our house. That was a huge amount of money in those days and we got a three story house with four bedrooms. So now begins my life in South Orange.