What John Remembers

I revered my dad as one of the greatest men alive. I thought him kind, considerate, honest, and honorable. He worked like few others. Though most farmers work hard, it seemed he worked harder than most farmers, sometimes even digging portions of his ditches with a shovel. Only two things seemed to ever matter with him, the farm and the family. Though he didn't verbally state his love for us, it was clear in the way he treated us that we, as his family, were the most important thing in his life.

 

Sometimes, we would go out on the farm with him just to be with him. I remember sitting on the toolbox on the tractor when younger. As we got older, work became more a responsibility, and we hoed the beets, set the siphon tubes, and herded the sheep. I remember dad had a fast walk as we went out to work, and I had to press to keep up with him.

One of the incidents I remember is getting cornered by a buck, and Dad, perhaps seeing it as a growing experience for me, smiling and coaxing me instead of just stepping in and chasing the buck away. Dad threw a pitchfork over to me, and encouraged me to fight the buck off.

Laura's (or Mary's) Memories

I'm not sure if this was Mary or Laura.

Here are some very random memories:

  He sang how his friends would "say Howdy, Howdy and I would say Howdy"

I remember also taking water out to Dad in the field in a quart size jar.  Sometimes Mom would send some food out to the fields too.  I liked riding on the tractor with him or walking behind the land planer (or whatever it was called that smoothed out the ground). He would nap sometimes on the floor in the sunshine.  Sorry to say, I also remember sitting on his stomach with a bound while he was on the ground resting.  He never expressed anger about this rude awakening.  He did ask sometimes for me to walk on his back-- a try at a massage?  I remember he massaged my feet on car trips.  (Think he was worried I was cold because I'd take off my shoes.)

A Cousin and Best Friend's Memories

Dear Susan, Mary has asked me to write my early memories of my dear 

cousin, LaRee.  So, here goes.  My first memory of LaRee was when your 

great grandparents, Edwin and Mary Boice had a small dairy farm in 

Manassa.  Their cute 4 room log house on a lane was one of my favorite 

places to visit.  Aunt Mary (Edwin was my mother's brother) put us 

small girls to work washing the milk bottles.  Of course, we didn't do 

a good job at it so she sent me and LaRee out to play.  We didn't mind 

losing our job and went hand in hand singing down the lane on our trip 

to the small town. LaRee always was a giggler and she delighted in 

telling me jokes.  It seemed we both had to go to the bathroom at the 

same time so we took advantage of the two holer that Uncle Edwin had 

made for the convenience of the large family.  It had no roof and I 

loved the sun beating down on our heads and the flies buzzing happily 

in the summer warmth.

LaRee loved to read and got in lots of trouble because she was so 

intent on her reading that she often failed to hear the calls of her 

mother to help with the babies.  She sucked her thumb and it caused her 

teeth to be crooked and have a severe overbite.  She was 'picked' on by 

her classmates and developed an inferiority complex.  Grandma and 

Grandpa Boice had moved to California near Letha and George and me.  

Edwin and Mary asked if they could help LaRee.  Of course the first 

thing the folks did was to take her to an orthopedic Dr. who 

immediately put her into a body cast from her neck to her tail bone. 

She was severely humped backed.  How uncomfortable she was.  Then they 

had braces put on her teeth.  She endured both corrections with dignity 

and it paid off.  By the time she graduated from High School she was a 

very pretty young lady.

World War II was just beginning but LaRee got a job with Douglas 

Aircraft in Inglewood, CA.  She had no car but had made good friends 

with Esther (last name?) who had her share her home and gave her the 

transportation she needed.  When she got married I loaned her my 

wedding dress.  It doesn't fit me anymore but would still fit LaRee.

During the years she sent me several prized gifts.  One was a large 

wooden scrap book which I will return someday to one of her 

children--perhaps Michael who can paste his favorite pictures in.  Then 

she sent me a book on gardening and one on Columbus.  The prize 

possession is a large notebook of a hundred year timeline of my father, 

George Ensign Cunliffe, on his hundredth birthday.  He lived to be 

almost 106.  I always looked forward to her Happy Birthday call on my 

day.  My love to all the family,  Cousin Donna Cunliffe Haycock