Barbara Rogers life story - Chapter one.

Looking back, stories of the elders and ancestors.

Earliest home, Meredith, Dallas TX

My mom, expecting me, on running board of Studebaker while Poppy and Gummy hoe a Victory Garden the summer of 1942. I may have been conceived after Pearl Harbor, being born on Aug. 23, 1942. The little two bedroom house had a room for me, with low window sills, so I could wave goodbye to Daddy as he backed out the driveway to go to work at North American Aviation as a bookkeeper. He'd say Cherry-O, but I don't remember what I said, at 2-3 years old. I do remember a linoleum rug on the floor with blocks and animals on it.

Ada PS Rogers (Gummy) my Daddy (George Elmore Rogers Jr.) and Poppy (George Elmore Rogers Sr.) I would have been George III if I'd been a boy! They came from San Antonio to Dallas, and are probably standing by my father's car. I don't think either of them drove, at least in my memory.

As 1946 came along, I then had a baby sister on Feb. 3, Mary Elizabeth Rogers, who we called Mary Beth.

Being born at the beginning of WW II, my life was somehow influenced by the drive to collect metal to be used in the war. So children's toys were not made of metal as much as before the war. I had a wood wagon full of wood blocks, and 2 small chairs, one a rocker. And a little wood cradle for baby dolls. I had been 4 months old for my first Christmas, and I'm guessing this is my second Christmas in Dallas TX.

I loved the nesting blocks (cardboard with pictures from fairy tales on 5 sides of each one.) I probably made some towers with both these colorful blocks and the wood ones which were to teach me the alphabet and numbers. It sure was fun to knock them over and see them scatter, and make a big sound.

Taken from an old 8 mm film shown on TV...my father and myself age 3

I think this is before Mary Beth turned one since its in warm weather. I would have been around  4. We called the contraption she was in a "go-cart." No strollers then!

 

These girls are all cousins, and it was my little sister's frowning first birthday in a little swing. Standing behind her is the oldest cousin, Claudette, then myself in the middle, and Sandra in sweater on right. Claudette and Sandra were sisters who lived in Houston. We moved there about that time.

We lived in Houston in a nice house on Cumberland and I had a set of roller skates and had a friend named Katherine. About that time my cousins' Claudette and Sandra's father died, my father's brother. I didn't understand what was happening as I just went and stayed with neighbors while my parents went to a "funeral."

In Houston, Christmas outfits by Grandmommy Mozelle Miller Munhall

Then a big event was one summer (1948or9) driving two Studebakers with my parents, sis and I in one, and my grandparents, Gummy and Poppy with my Uncle Chauncey driving and Claudette and Sandra in their car. We went through Louisiana and Mississippi and Tennessee, so Poppy could see some of the areas his family were from. We stayed in these cute little cabins in motels along the way (no interstates yet in 1949!) The Studebakers had trouble in the Smokeys and their radiators boiled over. We visited my Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Dotty in Stevens Point Wisconsin, and met cousins Pat and Chris. Then I think my parents went to St. Louis to visit Principia, the Christian Science School, but I'm not sure Uncle Chauncey's car went that direction before heading back to Houston.

In Steven's Point WI, Sandra, Patricia, Barbara, Mary Beth and Claudette.

My parents were impressed with the school, in spite of my falling off the swings and bashing the back of my head when the wood swing came back behind me. They then moved our little family of 4 to St . Louis in  the summer of that year. Perhaps the visit to Wisconsin and St. Louis had been the summer before that...not clear. 

Barbara and Mary Beth, 1950 with the current family Studebaker. Clothes were made by Mozelle Munhall.

So my sister and I were enrolled in Principia, (me in 3rd grade, sis in nursery school) and my father was looking for a job for quite a while, it seemed to me. My mother began working (maybe part time at first) at Principia, which covered our tuition at this private school. She worked there until my sister left college in 1963. And before that my father had also become the comptroller of the school. At one time I think he sold shoes before that, since St. Louis is known for shoes. I had my 8th birthday in 1950 the summer we moved to St. Louis, and it was cold, so we tried to light newspapers in the fireplace, but didn't know about flues and such, so we just smoked up the apartment on the second story of an old house on Cates. (It was no longer there when I took my sons through St. Louis in 1975, it having burned.

The big snow of 53 (St Louis MO) may have been 12 inches, or maybe that was another one. We got a sled, and learned what being cold felt like. Most children don't know when to come in out of the cold. But put mittens on a radiator, and that smell will remind us all of how our feet and fingers burned as they warmed up.

I was happy to get a doll (as usual) for Christmas when I was probably 8 or 10. (I think she marked the wrong date on this one.) Little sis also had a new doll. I'm thrilled to see what knick knacks my mother had on that non-working mantel.

Here are more Christmas dolls (or the same?) and we girls have poodle skirts, with matching collars. I was likely 11 (again her dates might be within a year or two.) This was our second apartment in St. Louis, again upstairs, on Clara St.

Though it looks as if we were with cousins by these photos, we only saw them very infrequently, since we lived so far from each other.

More will follow soon...after all, I'm already a grandmother when writing this. Before the blog lost what I had as premise for this post, I'd asked myself what questions I wish I'd asked my grandmothers. There were some interesting ones, and I'm not sure my story will answer many of them.

 

From my past

 These old photos were in an album which frankly had seen better days. Many of the exposed photos stuck to each other where they were on facing pages. I also had culled many of the photos of my sons and given them new locations in cardboard albums, behind a plastic transparent screen. I don't know what has become of those, because they were gifts to my three sons. 

I found strangely enough that some photos had been added much later of my third son, who of course hadn't been around for most of the early events.

Anyway, I've spent several hours scanning and organizing them. The only ones I'll share here are ones that represent more than just my family. These represent places and events as well as people that may have died.

So to start, let's see about my own birth.

This is not an official birth certificate, and I've taken off my dates and my mother's maiden name, which might be of use to somebody wishing to steal my identity. Those footprints sure won't help them! 

I was a pretty long baby at 20-1/4 inches. I don't know if the other stats are at all unusual.

It's a cute document with a gold seal. After I scanned it I tore it up and threw it away. Who would want such a thing? It's not legal!

This shot, from the infamous Kodak box camera, shows I could sit up by the time I was 7 months old.

I think I have a heart locket on. And there's a bent-wood chair behind me on the front porch in Dallas TX. Date on the back says March 21, 1943

And I liked to give my smile to the photographer. I like this shot showing the bassinette. And the lovingly knitted cap and sweater by my grandmother. Dated March 17, 1945

Last shot from March 1945. It was wartime, and I think the car parked in the next driveway was our neighbor's. All cars were black then. And they had this awful brown/grey upholstery. (Well that was my memory anyway!)

And I just realized that because I had all boys, I had kept my old knit bonnet tucked away somewhere because of course it was pink! I didn't have a chance to give it to any granddaughters either, because they didn't live where it was cold.   But I did find it still where I tucked it. No moths have gotten to it either, amazing over all my moves and 79 years.

It did bring tears to my eyes, thinking of my dear grandmother whose fingers made these stitches. Love can be carried through the years in strange and beautiful ways.

Fast forward...next post I'll bring some other family members here!