BEEBES
Erwin Earl Beebe - entrepreneur
Erwin Earl Beebe, my grandfather, had had practically no schooling - could
hardly read or write. He was a whiz at math- which he did in his head and he
had a sense of absolute level. He would look at a door or a window or a picture
hanging on a wall and tell you whether or not it was hanging level, and if not,
in what direction and how much.
He started his own construction business with my grandmother as
bookkeeper. When my dad was old enough, he took over the books. The
business was apparently quite succesful. He did cement work for Oakland
County building coverts along the roads and other such. When I was young,
most of the sidewalks in Holly were labeled either "Beebe & Co." or "Beebe
& Son." As my dad grew up, they moved more and more into building houses.
Unfortunately when the depression hit and the banks closed, they lost a
large number of houses that they had built on speculation- selling them on
land contracts.
As part of the cement business, they made and sold cement blocks. Bill
Cornell was in charge of the block making. He and Jennie lived on one
corner of my grandfather's 20 acres. (Jennie was the sister of Theda
Caswell, my Rose Center friend.)
In addition to the construction business, they cut ice at Royce Lake in
the winter, storing it in hugh ice houses and delivering it by truck to the
townspeople and out to vacationeers at the many lakes in the area.
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
BEEBES
Erwin & Lillie Beebe - from buggys to model A's
I can remember when I was very small, my grandparents had a horse and
buggy, and how I sat on my grandfather's lap and held the reins all by
myself. (So you can have your snowmobile Dean and I'll remember that
subborn horse!) On Sunday afternoon we would ride from Holly to Rose
Center to my great-grandparents (Pittengers) home. Then we'd came home in
the dark. We had cars and trucks, too, but I don't remember much about
them.
My grandfather bought on the first Model A Fords in town and I do
remember how shiny it was. My grandmother kept all the dust wiped off it
and quarreled with my grandfather because he persisted in driving on such
dusty roads. He tried to tell her that there were no roads without dust,
except in the winter - but she still sputtered.
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
BEEBES
Lillie Pittenger Beebe - society's lady
My grandmother loved pretty clothes and in one of the ledgers that my
dad kept for the business was a notation of cash purchase at one of the
stores of a pink parasol and matching pink gloves - and in my dad's
handwriting in the margin - "It's a wonder she didn't get matching pink
shoes!" (This is from her son)
She was very active in Community affairs, president of the Woman's
Society of the Methodist Church, president of the Woman's Christian
Temperance Union, Ladies Aide, Legion Auxiliary in which she was president
of the local chapter of Gold Star mothers, founder and president of Mothers
for Peace and others I've forgotten.
We had no TV in those days, so she used to read to granddad and us
every evening. When I reached high school, I discovered that I was already
will-versed in the writings of Dickens, and at college level, I discovered
that I already knew many of the plays of Shakespeare - thanks to those long
evenings with my grandparents.
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
BEEBES
Forrest & Gladys Beebe - wrong side of the tracks
There were some who said the Beebe family grew up on the wrong side of the
tracks. Well it's true we did grow up on the south side of the tracks, but I
think these people were referring to the attitudes and practices of both my
parents and my grandparents. Of course a few limited themselves solely to the
narrow minded morality typical small towns, but then World War I to the
depression years was a time for conservative politics and more conservative
lifestyles. It was small town America across the entire country. There were no
sprawling suburbs or skyscraper horizons then. The telephone and the airplane
were the inventions of the moment and antibiotics were twenty years into the
future. Most importantly there was no TV gulf wars or sitcoms and computing was
something you did with paper and pencil. It was a different time and a
different era.
Another difference from then and now is how out of wedlock mothers were
treated. In those days the unfortunate mother frequently was shunned by her
family and then protected by the community at large. This protection generally
came in the form of an arranged marriage. What with childbirth being a risky
venture, there was always a newly widowed man needing a woman to keep house and
care for his young. A single mother would never of been tolerated.
Yes you guessed it, my mother was one of the shunned. From child abuse to
rape, little was going right for my mother, that is until the local pharmacist
called upon my grandmother to intercede. How the pharmacist knew of my mother's
plight, I'll never know. Perhaps he read through my mother's anxieties to
realize he was seeing a homeless, very scared, very pregnant and quite desperate
little girl. Perhaps he was tuned-in to the small town grapevine. Whatever the
case he somehow knew of my mother's problem including the sense of betrayal she
felt for her mother's shunning. Most importantly he somehow knew to go to my
paternal grandparents for help.
What is unusual about this story is my paternal grandparents' response. At
Dad's insistence they agreed to go with less successful option of marrying my
mother to the paternal father. In this case the paternal father was their own
son, my Dad. So Dad -- an eleventh grader barely two years older than my mother
-- became a husband that Christmas Eve and a father the following spring.
Despite this less than tranquil beginning the marriage lasted and grew. It
lasted through their immature years. It lasted through the depression and it
lasted through alcoholism and worse. It lasted through five children, numerous
grandchildren and countless great-grandchildren. And at the end of the marriage
my mother was unwilling to give up Dad to the repeated strokes which finally
claimed his life.
To this day I wonder who really lived on the wrong side of the tracks.
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
BEEBES
Forrest Beebe - dad, his uneasy life
As I mentioned earlier my parents were married at an early age and after my
birth that first spring they went on to have four more children in less than ten
years. By today's standards this might seem a bit extreme, but early marriage
and back to back children were the norm back then. What was unusual is none of
their children died in childbirth and all lived to be adults with families and
children of their own. Quite unusual.
For my dad early marriage and a growing family was a lot of responsibility to
except so early in life. To make ends meet financially Dad worked four and five
jobs at a time. He worked full time for his dad, evenings and weekends in a gas
station, refereed basketball and baseball, ran the projector for Holly theatre
and played piano accompaniments for silent pictures. He also sang at funerals
with Paul Dryer and did artwork for merchant display windows. And still he
couldn't make ends meet.
My dad was a tragic figure in the Shakespherian sense. He was quite bright,
a creative artist and talented musician and he never had a chance to fully
explore his potential. Add to this feeling of dissatisfaction a stature small
even for those times, a handsome appeal for wandering ladies, a difficult wife
who bent social morays and macho friends who ragged him and you have the formula
for failure. Is it any wonder he became an alcoholic?
Still he was proud of his family and worked to see them succeed. Even took
care of his kids when his wife was out working. The long and short is none of
his children ended up in jail. None died at an early age. (My sister Esther
died at 50. but even that is not terribly young.) All went on to raise families
of their own and one, myself, went on to get a college education and a lifetime
career as a teacher. Then sometime in his late fifties Dad beat the alcoholism,
all by himself, and was cold sober the rest of his life. In hindsight I regret
being ashamed of my dad's sinful drinking and I'm very glad we have come to
realize alcoholism is a disease rather than a curse from above.
All the things Dad did strike me as real accomplishments. He not only
achieved a positive resolution to a potential tragic end, but he went on to
teach himself geology and become well known in the small world of rock hounds
and mineralogists. I treasure some of the jewelry pieces he created and greatly
favor a Gibson Girl line drawing he sketched. Most of all I treasure the
memories I hold of him.
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
PITTENGERS
George & Lillie Pittenger - the settlers
My great-grandparents on my father's mother's side were George and Sarah
(Tillman) Pittenger. They came to Michigan from New Jersey. I don't know the
exact location in New Jersey or date that they came. They selected an area in
Northern Oakland County, later to be called Rose Township near Rose Center.
A railroad ran through Rose Center, which in my time was Pere Marquette.
There was a general store next to the railroad and probably other buildings, but
I'm not sure what they were. The Pittengers selected land within distance of
the store, maybe two miles or so. I can remember walking there when I was young
and it did not seem far.
There was a nice stream that ran through their land. (It flowed north,
joining with other small streams to become the Shiawassee River.) On the north
side of the stream on a hillside close to the road was a spring. The Pittengers
cut trees and built a log cabin between the spring and the road.
As I remember Great Grandfather Pittenger (George Pittenger Senior), he was a
very old, slender man with a lot of white hair, blind but very active. (He lived
to be 96). He would walk around the yard and then sit on a bench near the shed.
I remember him running his fingers over my face and saying to my grandmother
(Lillie Jennie Pittenger Beebe), "She looks like you, Lillie."
And my grandmother laughed and said, "You should see her dirty face and
hands, and that tear in her skirt when she rolled down hill."
Great Grandmother Pittenger was also blind, but very active, too. She, too,
lived to be 96. She loved flowers and insisted on having a fresh bouquet on the
table in the parlor every day. She would feel each flower before she picked it
and she had some way of selecting only the best ones. She would hand each
flower to me as she picked it and then when she had all she wanted, she would
carry them into the house and arrange them in a vase. I never could understand
how a blind person could arrange them so prettily until I became a braille
teacher and watched my blind students accomplish equally astonishing feats.
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
PITTENGERS
George & Lillie Pittenger - log cabin memories
Some of my favorite stories centered around the log cabin that they built
when they first came to Michigan. It was located between the big spring
and the road. It was a loft over part of the main floor and the children
slept in the loft. There wasn't head room for beds so they slept on quilts
on the floor. One night there was a bad storm with lots of wind. They
woke up with rain coming down directly on them. Great-grandfather and
Great-grandmother Pittenger slept in an alcove under the loft next to the
kitchen area, and they called up to the children to come down and join them
because the wind had taken the roof off. In the morning they found the
roof sitting in the clearing in front of the cabin and they managed somehow
to place it back on the cabin.
Another time Great-grandfather Pittenger was working in another clearing
with Uncles Clarence and Charlie when they heard a gunshot near the cabin.
They ran back as fast ass they could and to their horror, a huge bear lay
in the clearing in front of the cabin. There was no sign of
Great-grandmother Pittenger nor the younger children. They rushed into the
cabin - no one - then they heard the children crying and Great-grandfather
lifted up the bear. The three little ones - my grandmother (Lillie),
George and Mary crawled out, unscratched but badly frightened. They rushed
back into the cabin and found Great-grandmother on the floor back of the
door, unconscious. They were never sure whether she fell from the recoil
of the gun and hit her head or if she fainted and hit her head as she fell.
But reguardless of that, she had opened the cabin door to see a huge bear
coming out of the woods and headed directly toward the three little ones
where they were playing. She grabbed the gun and shot just once.
Fortunately her aim had been perfect because her one shot had hit the bear
right between the eyes and had killed it instantly.
Another story Uncles Clarence and Charlie loved to tell, concerned the
boys' love of sugar and their mother's attempts to keep the sugar hidden
from them. According to their story, Great-grandmother was planning on
walking to Rose Center to the store and for some reason she was not taking
Clarence and Charlie along. As she started down the road with the younger
ones, on the little ones called back, "Ha, Ha boys! You will never find the
sugar where Ma hid it in the flour barrel."
One of my favorite memories relates to the flower picking of
Great-grandmother Pittenger. She had a pet rooster, a really old bird that
chased us children and would fly up on our backs and peck our necks. Well,
on this day he picked the wrong neck. Great-grandmother was very small,
probably not more the 4'9" or 4'10" and she bent over picking flowers. The
rooster apparently thought she was a child because he jumped on her back
and started picking her neck. MISTAKE! And I mean big mistake - because
she grabbed that poor rooster, her pet for many years, and twirled him the
air, breaking his neck. She flung him out into the yard and stormed into
the house, angry at everyone. My grandmother gathered up all of us and
hustled us into the car and headed home. She kept muttering about not
being able to reason with mother sometimes. But I shall always remember
the little figure in her black dress and white lace collar twirling that
hugh rooster in the air. She died a few days later from cancer, but I can
only hope that I inherited some of that energy and spunk that she still had
at 96.
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
PITTENGERS
Uncle Clarence and Uncle Charlie - the lumbermen
One of my fondest memories ofthe Pittenger farmhouse at Rose Center and
Uncles Clarence and Charlie who lived there. Neither one had married
although Clarence had been quite a "lady man" by his own description.
Uncle Charlie had been a house painter and a photographer. He had a small
building down by the spring where he developed his pictures.
Uncle Clarence was a gardner. His watermelons were the sweetest I have
ever tasted. He kept the seeds each year from the best ones and planted
them the next spring.
Both of them had worked in lumber camps in the north when they were
young. Clarence as a hunter, who brought in game (deer, rabbit, etc.,) to
feed the lumberjacks, and Charlie as the cook.
After the spring thaw, Clarence would shoot 10 to 12 deer on his own and
the he and Charlie would board a train and bring the deer back to Rose
Center. I suspect some of the meat went to neighbors and relatives, but
whether as gifts or for money, I don't know.
One of the pranks that lumberjacks pulled was to haress the camp cook and
some of the haressment was pretty rough.
One of Uncle Charlie's favorite story was about one lumber camp where he
cooked and the gang of lumberjacks delighted in driving out the cooks. One
cook had been tied up and thrown into the river and drowned. The lumberman
running the camp made no bones about the troubles he was having managing
the roughnecks who worked for him, but he offered Charlie twice the going
pay if he would finish the season. So Charlie took the job and immediately
the lumberjacks started haressing him. One of them asked him if he knew
about the cook who had drowned and Charlie "acknowleged as how" he had
heard about the "accident". The lumberjacks snickered and corrected the
story because "it warn't no accident." And they kept on, threatening him
with the possibilty of a similar "accident" if he didn't cook the way they
liked. Finally Charlie walked to the door and asked if anyone knew the man
with gun standing in the yard of the cook shed. Someone said they "sure
did" he was the best camp hunter in the north and he was a "dead-shot,"
never missing. So Charlie asked if they knew that the hunter had a brother
and did they know that once some lumberjack had attacked the hunter's
brother and that the hunter had shot the lumberjack dead with one shot?
And at that point, he called, "Clarence, brother, come here a minute." And
he introduced Clarence to the group of lumberjacks. Clarence would always
laugh at the end of Charlie's story, and would say, "you should have seen
their faces!" And Charlie would add, "And you should have seen how fast
they moved their behinds out of that cook shed."
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
PITTENGERS
Uncle Clarence and Uncle Charlie - the fiddlers
Both Uncles Clarence and Charlie were fiddlers, and Charlie played the
mouth organ. Both of them played and "called" at the square dances. At
some point, they hooked up with a young guy who was a "One-man band." He
played the organ pumping with one foot and using a device he had invented
to beat a drum with the other foot. In additon, he had another device on
his head holding a mouth organ so that he could play it. And - in addition
to all this - he sang and "called" square dances. What more could you ask?
The two Pittenger boys were more then delighted and much of their
conversation during the week was about this "one man" band fellow. So when
it was time to go to the next square dance on the next Saturday night,
their sister insisted on going along. The boys were not enthusiastic but
were unable to talk her out of going. And - AND - they promptly lost their
new musican because the young man liked to dance more than he liked to
play. When he saw this blue-eyed blond with a heart-shaped face come in
the barn with her brothers, he immediately deserted his organ-drum-mouth
organ set-up and demanded her hand for the entire evening. Need I tell you
that his name was EARL BEEBE and hers was LILLIE JENNIE PITTENGER?
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
PITTENGERS
Uncle Clarence and Uncle Charlie - hard cider
One of my other memories was about the barrel of cider that Uncle
Clarence had sitting in the snow outside the kitchen door. Now if you
don't happen to know what happens to cider as it ages, you won't appreciate
this story, so I'll tell you. Cider becomes "hard" but hard cider "is not
a solid, as you might guess, but is potent"! "Strong" might be a better
word. In fact, the heart of Uncle Clarence's barrel of cider was I'm sure
pure alcohol. Anyway, both Uncle Clarence and my Grandfather Beebe (Earl)
loved to drink it - much to the disgust of my Grandmother Beebe (Lillie)
who was an ardent prohibitionist and president of the Holly WCTU.
Anyway my grandfather occasionally would slip away from Holly and drive
out to Rose Center to see Clarence and get a sip of cider. On this trip I
managed to go along - and they let me "sip". I don't remember how it
tasted. But I do remember the effect it had, Uncle Clarence was "fiddling"
and granddad was playing his mouth organ - and I was dancing in the middle
of the kitchen floor when the whole room started spinning and I rushed
outdoors, terribly sick. I fill flat in the snow - which helped revive me.
My father and grandmother drove into the yard about that time. (Talk
about perfect timing!) Well, my grandmother was very good at "dressing
down" people - and she did a thorough job on both her brother and her
husband. My dad washed my face and sponged off my dress and then tried to
escape - but, no luck. My grandmother commandeered the keys to my
grandfather's car and then rode home with us. I never did know how my
grandfather got back to Holly.
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
PITTENGERS
Joel & Isa McWithy - summers in rose center
I always spent some time every summer out a Rose Center but I didn't
stay with the Pittengers. I stayed down the road at the McWithys with
Vera, Artie and Uncle Joel. They had a mill on a little stream and we swam
in the pond back of the mill. My best friend was Theda Caswell who lived
on the next road. We were inseparable - eating all our meals together,
many of them picnics in various spots and crying when we couldn't sleep
together. We braided dandelion stems to make crowns for our dolls,
pretended we were fairy princesses hiding in the woods, swam 5 or 6 times a
day - picked apples and helped Artie make cider in the fall. Summer was
much to short! Vera was my grandmother's neice. She had a wonderful
collection of china dolls - beautiful dolls! Which I was supposed to look
at but not touch. Unfortunately children do not always remember what they
should remember - and Theda and I got into serious trouble over a broken
doll. After Uncle Joel died, Vera married Perl Hooker and they moved down
to the Milford area, and I didn't get the chance to summer at Rose Center.
In the beginning I liked Perl. He was a nice guy and Vera obviously adored
him, but after he took her away - and I no longer could spend the summer
with Theda - I decided that I really didn't like him at all. Oh, the logic
of an adolescent!
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
THORNES
Jessie Thorne family - quaker sundays
When I was a homesick college student ( 1932-1936) at Eastern Michigan Normal
College (now Eastern Michigan University) in Ypsilanti, the Thornes (who were my
mother's family) adopted me, and invited me to their home regularly. I never
stayed overnight but they did feed me often and I have never forgotten their
loving care.
Linda and Dolph lived with their father until he died. Both worked, Linda as a
nurse's aide. I'm not sure what Dolph did. They were both Quakers and I
attended the Quaker meetings which were at their house on Sunday afternoons.
Their living room was a long narrow room with large windows facing west. I
always tried to sit so that I could face the windows, and thus watch the sunset.
The group varied from maybe 10 people to over 30 for special occasions. There
was no minister or even formal organization as far a I could tell. There was no
singing and very little praying. There was often silence.
The group would greet each other quietly as they came in. Then they would sit
with their Bibles in their laps - without talking - until everyone was seated.
After a period of silence, someone would speak. There was no special order -
anyone who wished could read from his Bible or something else (I remember Lynda
reading a poem about spring) or just talk. No-one ever talked very long. There
would be a period of silence after each person's contribution, and then someone
else would speak. I remember one afternoon when no-one spoke. We sat in
silence for at least an hour and then everyone got up and went to the kitchen
for food. It was pot-luck, with each family bringing food which was set out
buffet style on the kitchen counter. It was definitely the best meal I would
get all week. And I have never forgotten the connection between food and
religion. The Thorne's were quiet people. They had a very special sense of
humor, poking fun at the more conventional behavior of others. Lynda was a
giggler (like by sister Esther). I had no problem fitting into the group. In
fact, I enjoyed their attention. I was the only young person - and everyone
"Babied" me. They were my Ypsi family - tight-knit and warm - during my four
years in their town.
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
SMITHS
Raymond & Lillian Smith - meeting to marriage
To RAY with all my love - LILLIAN, April 1996
The first time - or at least, the first time I remember - seeing you was when
I was maybe 4 or 5 years old, and you were a year older. My mother had washed
and curled my sister, Viva and my hair (long cork screw curls that were
hand-brushed and took ages) and dressed us up to have our pictures taken. She
had set us in chairs on our front porch - and told us to stay there. Well -
sometimes certain things happen - it's just fate, maybe. Anyway, Bill Cornell,
my dad's top man, came through with the gravel truck and stopped by the porch.
And the next thing I knew, Viva and I were in the front seat of the truck next
to Bill, headed for the gravel pit at the Smith farm. And the next thing that
happened was, as we climbed down out of the truck, two boys appeared at the top
of the cliff above us, and started kicking sand down on top of us. Bill yelled
at the boys and pushed us back in the truck. But the damage was done. Our
beautiful curls were full of sand.
My mother cried when we got back home, and then warned us over and over,
"STAY AWAY from those SMITH BOYS!"
Poor Mom! Little did she know what lay ahead!
This I don't remember - buy you insisted it was true - we had lockers just
four or five apart in the same hall at the Holly High School, I believe you.
And I also believe you when you said that I always kept my eyes straight ahead,
marched up to my locker and got my books or coat or whatever, closed the locker
and marched back down the hall, without looking at or speaking to anyone.
Well, you remember my mother said, STAY AWAY from those SMITH BOYS."
Later she amended it to, "STAY AWAY from ALL BOYS!" And I did - - !
What would you have done if I had spoken to you?
Later - several years actually - I went out to Holly for the weekend. I was
teaching in Dearborn and had my own apartment. I felt pretty good about life -
good job - good pay - good future. But somehow things happen - like climbing in
that gravel truck when I was a little girl. Anyway, just as I was settling down
for a nice quiet weekend at home, enter Alden, my kid brother. He had caught me
"stagging" at the Graystone - a dance hall in Detroit. I was with several
teachers (female!) from Dearborn. We went together and left together. There
was no hanky-panky. We did dance with strangers but we stayed strictly on the
dance floor. I felt no guilt - but I knew my dad and mother wouldn't
understand. Nice Methodist girls didn't dance - least of all, did not go to
dance halls like Graystone.
So - when Alden casually asked if I had been to the Graystone lately, I knew
he meant trouble. I said, "No" and inquired if he had been down to Detroit
recently. He answered no, and added that his gang had found a new place up near
Lapeer. Their problem was transportation. Ron Tubb's car had collasped of old
age and no-one else had a car. I had ridden out to Holly on the bus and didn't
own a car - and didn't intend to borrow Dad's car for Alden - and I said so.
But that was not Alden's plan. It seems that Alden knew someone with a brand
new Chevrolet - a beautiful car with a radio - but this guy didn't have a date.
So - Alden had offered my services for the evening, if his friend would drive
the gang up to Lapeer to this new dance hall. "ARE YOU CRAZY?" I asked. "Why
should I go with your GOOF-BALLS?" And on a blind date with a country bumpkin -
I'm not crazy even if you are!" At which my darling little brother (see!)
reminded me about being at Graystone, dancing with strangers - and the effect
such information would have on our parents. (Yes, I would call it blackmail!)
So I reluctantly climbed into you car. I was next to you. Alden and his
girl were squeezed in the front seat with us. Three other boys and their
dates were squeezed into the back seat. There was hardly room to breathe
let alone talk. I closed my eyes and tried to close my ears. How could I
have let myself into such a set-up? You said nothing - just drove. I
noticed you were a good driver. I tried to remember what I knew about you.
Vera Smith was your sister. I knew her a little, but I couldn't remember
much about her. After all, I hadn't been around Holly much, after I went
to college. And about all I could remember about you was when you and your
brother kicked sand down into the gravel pit when we were small. Not much
to go on.
But had a new car which Alden said belonged to you - so you must be
working somewhere, but as to where or what kind of job, I had no clues.
And you didn't smoke. INTERESTING!
It's quite a way to Lapeer and I had a bad headache from the cigarette smoke
by the time we got there. The minute we were parked, the four coules piled out
and raced into the hall. I sighed. It looked like a long night. You still
didn't say anything, so I slide over toward the door where Alden and his date
had been sitting, put my head back and shut my eyes. We just sat there for
quite a while, and I nearly went to sleep. Suddenly, I woke up, sat up and
looked around. You were still listening to the radio, quietly, sitting in the
driver's seat, just looking out the front. I had a very strange feeling -
something was wrong. Normally, every date I had would have used such an
opportunity - alone in the care with me half asleep - to "come on" strong, going
as far as possible. But you weren't even trying to kiss me. You were just
sitting there quietly, looking out the window. So I tried conversation, I asked
you where you worked and what you did. And I asked about Vera. Your answers
were very, very brief, and we drifted back to silence. Finally, you asked if I
wanted to go inside and dance - and I nodded yes - so we went inside. I
discovered that while you were not Fred Astaire, you were a fairly good dancer,
and the night passed rather rapidly. We still didn't talk. I had run out of
questions - when we got back to the house, I climbed out of the car when Alden
did, thanked you for the dancing and told you that I enjoyed the evening. You
still said nothing - so I went in the house, leaving Alden standing by the car
talking to you. The next day you showed up and asked me to go swimming. So we
went swimming at Bush Lake and that went better than the dancing. You even
talked a little.
On Sunday, you drove me out to the bus stop on the Dixie and you even asked
if I were coming back to Holly the next weekend. I couldn't but I told you that
Alden would know when I came again.
And so it went that first fall - and winter. When I was in Holly, you were
at Hadley Street until I left. I always wondered what you did when I stayed in
Dearborn. You never suggested going to Dearborn to see me - and I didn't ask
you, I'm not sure why - but your friendship had become more and more important
to me. We were listening to music - and jazz - we were talking about books - we
were both readers - and about traveling - which we both wanted to do. When the
weather had been warm enough, we swam. As the fall came on, we walked - miles-
and miles. Even in the cold weather, we hiked in the snow. I felt ridiculously
young when I was with you although you were a year older that I was. I laughed
at your "one-liners" - even giggled, like my sister, Esther, who was one of the
world's top gigglers. It was such an eary relationship.
Most of my other dates were over-aggressively sex eager males, that I
gradually grew to dislike more and more. You were my friend - and that
friendship was becoming more and more important.
When one of my friends accused me of being in love with you, I denied such a
possibility. How could I be in love with someone who didn't even kiss me very
often? You were very, very good at kissing - but you never pushed beyond that .
And I responded to your kisses, as I had never responded to anyone else's. I
didn't want to fall in love. I had a good job and I would lose it if I married.
And I was supporting my family - as you were supporting yours - and we really
couldn't afford to get married. But I headed for Holly as often as I could - and
you began coming to Dearborn. We were still very controlled in our love-making
- but the fire was there.
Many of my fellow teachers in Dearborn were secretly married. I suspect the
Dearborn Board must have known some of them, but as long as the teachers did not
publize their marriages, they were allowed to keep them.
I suggested that you and I elope to Bowling Green (Ohio) and get married -
like others - just keep it secret. I would meet you on weekends in Holly and
thus I could keep my job. You didn't like the idea at all. You wanted our
marriage to be in the open and you refused to settle for anything else.
In the meantime the economial situtation was getting worse. You were working
less and less - and I was the only on in either your family or mine with a
stable job.
But then came the miracle - the Dearborn Board of Education announced that
while it would not hire married woman to teach, it would allow teachers who were
already on the pay-roll to marry and allow them to continue teaching. We
immediately began planning a June wedding.
And that's when the trouble really began. Do you remember?? Of course - you
do, we both remember. There had been some kind of trouble over the gravel pti
between your father and my grandfather - swearing, name-calling but no physical
confrontation - (both men were too old and too weak) but it ended up with BEEBE
& SON finding another gravel pit - and a life-long emnity that you and I
inherited. Everyone in both families, even my brother Alden, was against our
marrying.
My mother was particularly adament in her objections. She liked your mother,
who was one of the sweetest person in the world, and she felt that your father
mistreated her badly, and that you would use your father as a role model, and
mistreat me. Well - she was right about your mother and father's relationship.
He was cruel. But apparently you and Russ dislike that pattern, because you
agreed on a different approach to marital problems. If anything, you were to
mild - too sweet. In Russ's case, Jean took advantage of the situation and used
Russ badly. Maybe I wasn't an angel either - but I didn't ever mean to be
anything other than loving. But sometimes life is rough and I was as good as you
were at holding troubles inside me. Sometimes I exploded - and then I would be
terribly sorry because you would be so hurt - and I didn't mean to hurt you.
But back to the spring of 1939. We already knew now both families felt about
our dating, so their reaction to our annoucement of June wedding came as no
surprise. But we went ahead with our plans. Russ agreed to be our best mand
and to help plan the wedding. Alden and Skip, my brothers, and Esther, my
younger sister were all enthusiactic and had some bery grandiose ideas that we
rejected.
My sister, Viva, and her husband, Paul agreed with my parents and refused to
help with the wedding plans. But we barged ahead anyway. I wanted to be
married on my birthday in my grandparent's rock garden. The date was good. It
was on a Sunday the last week of school. The place really wasn't good. After
my grandparent's deaths, their house had been rented and rock garden had been
neglected. May and June are cold, wet months - not best for garden work. But
Russ and my younger siblings were astonishingly efficient. Esther and the two
boys talked with the people who were renting my grandfather's house - who in
turn tackled my parents for permission to renovate the garden - and secured my
Dad's and my Uncle Lawrence's permission to do whatever they wanted to do.
Lawrence and Aleetia, his wife, were all on my side but didn't dare buck my
father too much because Lawrence was out of work and his house for which he paid
no rent as part of the Beebe estate which my dad controlled. But they did what
they could, quietly.
The work on the garden proceeded nicely. The back part which had been a
grassy park under the apple trees was all over grown with raspberry bushes.
One weekend I came home to find it totally cleared, with the brush removed
and a string around the area with a sign "fresh grass seed. Stay off!" And
Esther said lots of people had stopped by to help with weeding the rock garden
and had even brought plants to replace some that had died. The lily pond was
beyond repair so someone brought dirt and filled it in in and planted flowers in
it. I was astonished at the progress. Money was so scarce that I decided not
to buy a wedding dress. I had a pale blue dress tha my grandmother had made for
me when I was in high school. It still fitted and I bought some veiling and
Esther and I sewed it up. I kept asking you if you still wanted to go through
with the marriage - and you would just grin and kiss me.
Later the renters told me that my dad worked harder that anyone to get
the rock garden renovated. When they tried to tease him about his effort,
he got angry and said that he was doing it to improve his rental property -
not for me. (But I knew better!)
The next big problem was the minister. The minister at the Holly Methodist
Church was sick. I don't remember what was wrong - but he was in the hospital
in Pontiac in early May, so we decided to contact the minister who had been in
Holly before. He was Rev. Collister and was at the church in Pontiac, and
seemed pleased that we asked him to marry us. He had no objection to the garden
- seemed rather interested in our plans.
And then cam the problem of music. The boys suggested a piano on the back of
one of our trucks. Now that sounds good until you consider the age and
condition of the company trucks. But the boys managed. They even had a choice
of pianos - one from the church or one from the school. I tried both pianos.
Neither was very good.
Flowers were no problem. I had worked all of my high school and college
years whenever I could for Joe and Sue Kelly, who owned the local greenhouse and
nursery, Joe insisted on furnishing the flowers. He not only brought the
flowers for the wedding itself, but brought potted plants that were blossoming
and tucked them in various spots around the rock garden itself. Esther helped
him and she said that he first came with just a few pots, and then he made
another trip bringing more pots. and then again - and on Saturday morning, more
yet. It was a dazzling display. I couldn't believe how nice it looked.
Unfortunately for the renters, Joe took most of them back on Monday morning.
But at least, the rock garden was gorgeous for the week-end.
As you can remember, we didn't waste money. No announcements - word of mouth
invitations - But and there's always a "but" - it rained all night Friday night.
I was glad that the boys had not borrowed the piano for Friday night. And I was
glad that my dress was just a little shoret and that my view was a little short
train, not a long train. And I woke up, several times, hearing the rain and
wondering what we would do, if it didn't clear up. You were at the farm,
listening to the rain too.
You picked me up early Saturday morning - my birthday - and we went to Fenton
to a restaurant Virginia's father owned. It was still raining. I felt like
crying, but I didn't. It always rains on the seventeenth of June. My mother
said it rained the day I was born - But miracles do happen. The rain slowed
down. By nine o'clock it had stopped and by nine-thirty, the sun was trying to
shine. All the guys, including you headed for the Church with the truck to get
the piano. Alden was driving and I was really scared that he was going to lose
control and back right down into the rock garden. But all went well, except the
piano tuner was late and didn't do a very good job of tuning the piano. Eva
Cole played for the wedding and she kept wrinking her nose when she hit keys out
of tune.
My mother had called me the night before and said that, although she felt I
was making a mistake, she wished us well and that she would attend the wedding -
that helped. But my dad was still holding out, refusing to speak to me.
The wedding was to be at 2 p.m. and the sun did it best to dry out the rock
garden. Eva was to play the piano, Happy ( Kenneth Clark) my uncle was going to
sing. Russ was your bestman and Charlotte Dietz, my college roommate, was my
bridesmaid. She and Scrip (now her husband) hitch-hiked form Ypsi and get wet
in the rain. Fortunately, her dress packed in a box didn't get wet. Howard
Throop, Vera's little boy, was the ring bearer and Donna Stilwell, Viva's little
girl, was the flower girl. Esther was more or less in charge and she kept
everything lined up very nicely. Since my dad refused to have any part of the
wedding, Alden was going to give me away - but he didn't own a suit and he was
still trying to borrow one that would fit. Virginia brought one from Fenton -
but then he still didn't have a white shirt or a tie.
But the sun did keep shining - A MIRACLE!
Rev. Collister came around one o'clocl and we went over the ceremony with
him. Ath the end of the discussion, he said, "If you have doubts about
marrying, this is the time to say so" I looked at you and said, "There are a
lots of people who think we are making a mistake. Does that bother you? Do you
still want to marry me?"
And you, my dearest made one of your longest speeches. You took my hand, and
stated in a low voice - but clearly - "I'm marrying you - not anyone else. All
that matters is what you and I think."
So I reached up and kissed you. And Rev. Collister laughed and remarked that
we were supposed to save that kiss for the end of the wedding. And that's when
I cried - remember?
The sun shone throughout the ceremony. It was a beautiful day. Eva
played and Happy sang, "Oh promise me." It was lovely. Then Eva started
the wedding march and Alden took my arm to start down into the garden, when
suddenly my dad appeared and replace Alden - and dad and I cam down the
grass toward you.
Another MIRACLE!
It was all beautiful! As beautiful as your kiss.
The renters had set up card tables with a cake and punch for a
reception. They were so wonderful. We always had good renters - better
than family in some ways.
Then we got in your beautiful car - now all decorated with "JUST
MARRIED" signs and strings of tin cans, and we headed north for our one
night honeymoon. But then it began to rain again - and I had no coat. So
we stopped in Saginaw and I bought one - funny looking one but the only one
in my size. But the rain kept pouring, so we stopped in Tawas, although we
had planned to go to Mackinaw. We took a room in a big house on the water.
Our room was on the front, facing the lake. After carrying our luggage
upstairs to the room, we found a restaurant and had dinner. I have no idea
what we ate. After dinner we went back to the house where we were staying.
Another couple had stopped and it happened to be someone from Holly that
you knew. They had been married that afternoon, too. We talked a bit. We
recommended the restaurant where we had eaten. They were planning to go to
the upper peninsula - they had a whole week for their honeymoon (you and I
had to be back to work Monday morning.) She was shivering from the cold,
so I gave her my coat that I had bought in Saginaw. We were upstairs when
they came back from dinner. And we left before they were up in the
morning. So my coat went on its way - and you and I went back to work -
but happy - We had crossed our first mountain - It had taken miracles for
us to manage it - but we were there.
Lillian Myrtle Beebe Smith
Memories of ESTHER BEEBE MINER
THORNES
Thorn / Thorne - snippets from history
James and Mary Thorn with two girls and four boys came to the United States in
October of 1869. They came to America on a six masted sailing vessel. They
settled on a farm on Burton Road in Willis, Wastenaw County, Michigan. Two
children were born in the United States.
Alfred Thorn died in England when he was about six years old. In the town where
James and Mary lived, there was a shop that had a young child's casket in the
window. When Alfred died, the shopkeeper offered them the casket at a low cost,
but Alfred's legs would have had to be cut off. Mary was horrified at the
thought and they bought a casket the right size for Alfred. But every time Mary
went shopping, she would walk on the opposite side of the road to avoid passing
the window, for it made her unhappy and depressed thinking about Alfred. This
is one reason they decided to come to America.
Mary Kipping Thorn had one brother and two sisters, one sister was named
Elizabeth, she was married and had a family. Mary's parents and her only
brother, sister Elizabeth and husband and family, sailed to Melbourne, Australia
to live. They wrote letters to Mary and my grandmother Myrtle for a time and
then nothing was heard from them. The letters were written in Old English and
words were spelled leaving off letters and sometimes adding a 'h' at the end of
the words.
Tradition tells that Mary and Elizabeth Kipping were "Ladies in waiting" and
worked for Royalty in their youth, and that they lived a short distance from
London, England.
Tradition as told by Mrs. Joseph Thorne is the changing of the name of Thorn.
When Miss Rose Thorn went to school, she came home and said the Thorn was what
was on a rose stem and that Thorne was what the spelling should be for the name.
Some of the family changed it and some didn't.
Memories of PAMELA MINER VANDERLIST
PITTENGERS
Uncle Clarence - spooky old man
Uncle Clarence did not live that far from our farm on Rattalee Lk. Rd.
but it would seem fine if we visited during the day but at night it got
real spooky. We would go out to the Pittenger farm with Grandma Beebe to
visit. Vern, Vernona and I could roam around the yards as long as we were
good and not to go near the well. You know how that goes when someone
tells children not to do something that is exactly what they do. We
wondered near the well which was in the ground with no structure around it
only a pulley with a pail. Uncle Clarence came up from nowhere and scared
us away.
Grandma Beebe had to reassure Uncle Clarence that we meant no harm nor
did we not drink from the well. Vern was okay but us girls, he didn't
appreciate. You see he almost got married at one point in his life and
really loved the lady but the day of the wedding she never showed. He
learned later the lady went off and married someone else. She claimed she
did not know how to tell Uncle Clarence and left him standing at the altar
by himself. Ever since then he would have nothing to do with woman except
his Mom and Sisters.
Mom once said there was a lake on the property somewhere, where Uncle
Clarence went fishing and one day while fishing he saw a woman swimming in
the lake with a male friend. Well it was okay the male person but not the
woman and vowed he would never fish in that lake again.
They would get Uncle Clarence to come out of the house and sit outside
and tell stories to us. He told us to watch out for bears when we go out
into the fields. We were never allowed to go into the house even after
dusk. He had no electric lights nor gas or electric stove. He use a wood
burning stove and oil lamps.
One evening dad wanted to show Uncle Clarence his new flashlight.
This one had a big round bulb and battery was big and square shaped. We
wanted to wait until daytime but dad insisted on going during night so he
could show Uncle Clarence what the flashlight could do.
Well after dusk Uncle Clarence would stand on his porch with his gun
to welcome anyone that came in yard. When he saw it was dad, everything
was fine. Mom stayed in the car with us until dad convinced Uncle Clarence
to let us in. We could only stay in the kitchen area because he had sealed
the rest of the house off and only lived in the kitchen. I don't think he
ever did dishes as he table had piles of dirty dishes. What he did was
eat, then put a layer of papers over the dishes and put clean ones on top
and he had quite a few layers. You didn't want to touch much of anything
because it was either smokie, oily, or sootie. We sat in chairs while dad
and Uncle Clarence would talk and he tell stories and never let you out of
his sight. Oh by the way he was impressed with dad's new flashlight.
This man only took baths when Grandpa Beebe went to visit, you see he
worn his bath tub on him as he took baths in the waders that he worn all
the time. When Grandpa Beebe died than dad inherited the job of bathing
Uncle Clarence. Uncle Clarence would walk to Holly when he needed to go to
the store and not to often did he ride in anyone's car.
He was quite active until he died. Bruce Dryer said they had trouble
getting him to lie in the casket and had to break his back. Once he was
cleaned up no one knew who he was, because they were use to seeing him in
his waders and dirt caked on his skin.
Hope you liked my story - you had to be there as when those trees moved
with the wind near the house it got spookie.
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