My Dad

My dad was born on November 1, 1908. In January of 1909, my grandfather died of an unknown illness. My grandmother did what most widowed mothers did back then and put her five children in an orphanage. My dad was raised in this orphanage in South Dakota where he was the youngest child in the house. Oh, the stories he used to tell us about growing up. He, nor my aunts and uncles ever heard much from their mother, except that she married again, and had five more children. The orphanage was the only home my dad ever knew as a child. When he turned 18 years old, the matrons packed his bags and sent him on his way. He found a job as a farm hand where the kind owners of the farm took him under wing and treated him like their own son. This was the first real home he ever experienced. After three years on the farm, his new found papa convinced him that he would be better off joining the Army and making something of himself. So, he joined up before WWII, and spent seven years at being the property of the US government. Upon discharge, he landed in Houston. He immediately went to work for the railroad, the start of a 45 year career with them. He rented a room over a restaurant.

My Mom


Mom was the oldest child of a poor east Texas family of seven children. As things were during the depression, my grandfather lost his furniture business. He started drinking heavily to drown his sorrows, and eventually left home. My grandmother was left to raise and support the family. My mother quit school in the tenth grade to help raise the younger children.

A Match Made In Heaven

Remember the room my dad rented above the restraunt? It just happened that my mom worked at the restraunt. (I like this part) My dad (so it was told to me) used to come in to eat his supper and he would always sit at my mother's table. My mother would always arrange so that she would be working when he would come in to eat. Three months later, they were married. They were perfect for each other. My dad never really had to take care of himself, and my mom was already an experienced caretaker. Mom and dad's marriage flourished. One year, almost to the day after they married, my sister was born. Two years after that, my mom gave my dad a son. Then the following year I was born. Three years later they lost a set of twins. Then the following year, they adopted my little brother. Mom and dad were devoted parents. Mom loved her profession as a stay home mom, and my dad vowed that his children would never know the loneliness he did as a child. And we never did.

My father passed away on October 21, 1979. My mother died on April 3, 2001.






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