Chapter 1 | Ancestors
My Grandmother
My grandmother was born in Franklin, Indiana, on August 16, 1897. Marjory Huffman Young Strobel lived to be eighty-three years old, passing away on the island of Maui, Hawaii, on June 11, 1981. The one word that comes to mind when I think of her is regret. Regret, as my grandmother was a heroine to me and I regret not having spent more time with this wonderful person, getting to know her and our family heritage better. The one word I'd use to describe her character is "principled."
She was a loving, caring person but stood by her principles for the benefit of those around her. It was all the more troublesome for her as she was a single parent during the challenging years of raising my mother and uncle. She married her first husband, John Sandy Young, when she was twenty-four years old. Grandmother lost her first husband a scant seven years into their marriage, leaving her with two young children, ages six and two. Her second husband, Ralph J. Strobel, loved and wanted to marry her but she insisted on waiting until her two children were older and more set in their life choices before remarrying. Grandmother waited until mother was nineteen before remarrying and was married to her second husband for thirty years, before he passed in 1975. In retrospect, I'd say that my behavior mirrored her "principled behavior" while raising my children. On occasion after occasion, the handling of my children's behavior was not the "easy way out" but rather reflected what would hopefully prepare them for adulthood.
Grandmother was ahead of her time in many ways. During the Second World War, she became a draftsman. In our current world, she'd be referred to as a draftswoman to point out that she was filling a role that was traditionally a man's job. She was active throughout her life, working in her profession until retiring at the age of sixty-six. My mother and uncle characterized her as having a wonderful sense of humor, a smile for everyone, and always setting a good example.
Full disclosure-the below account is based on conversations with other family members and friends and not from a direct accounting by grandmother:
My mother met my paternal father when she was approximately eighteen years of age. Paul James Thayer was in the navy at the time and was a handsome man with an engaging personality. Grandmother didn't feel he would adequately provide for mother or that the marriage would last. Besides which, she wanted more for mother (college) as she entered the prime of her life. Mother fell head over heels for him. In retrospect, I'd say this was one of the happiest periods of life for my mother as I have a photo of her with a genuinely happy smile on her face. Grandmother's position on the relationship was that if mother continued, "She'd have to sleep in the bed she made." In other words, continuation of the relationship wouldn't receive support from grandmother. The rest, as they say, is history as mother married my bio-father, Paul J. Thayer, and had me, creating other challenges mentioned later in this book as the marriage was indeed short-lived.
A special treat for my brother and me was visiting grandmother and Ralph Strobel (her second husband) at their country home outside of Greencastle, Indiana. The entrance to their home was off a one-lane road onto a gravel driveway that dipped down into a gully. Once we turned into grandmother's driveway, we looked for their dogs that welcomed us with wagging tails while acknowledging our entrance. Our minds drifted as we imagined the wonderful treats awaiting us in grandmother's home. Grandmother was a magnificent cook and every meal she cooked seemed special. To this day, we remember the extraordinary cookies Grandmother would bake for special occasions and package in attractive tins.
Another admirable trait of my grandmother was communicating. To my knowledge, she never forgot a birthday, anniversary, or special occasion of a family member. Once in the family and known by her, you were always in her life. I remember my uncle Jack and his second wife Joanne divorcing around my senior year of high school. My aunt Joanne had two young sons from a previous marriage and Grandmother kept in touch with the three of them after the divorce. She wrote numerous letters and cards to family members and would always sign them "God Loves You and so do I." I can't help but believe that she's now with God in his kingdom.
Left: Grandmother Marjory Young with her first Husband, John Sandy Young. Center: Uncle Jack, Grandmother, and Mother. Right: Grandmother.
My Mother
Despite my mother's problems, there was never a doubt in my mind that she loved me. The first of two children, she was born Dorothy Jean Young on October 22, 1925. Mother lived seventy-one years, passing away on November 3, 1996. Having me so young presented Mother with a number of challenges.
She met and fell in love with my bio-dad, Paul James Thayer, marrying him over objections from her mother and soon thereafter had me. Grandmother wanted Mother to prepare for a better life at that point while having reservations about her husband-to-be. The short courtship and the first months of marriage to my dad was probably the happiest period of my Mother's life. I left home for good at age sixteen and while I have a few memories of Mother's happy days, they were by far the exception rather than the rule. I have an old photograph of her with my dad, taken during their courtship and Mother looks happier there than any other time I've witnessed.
My dad left Mother for another woman before my first birthday and Mother divorced him on December 2, 1946, a mere five months after my birth. I feel this absolutely crushed Mother, leading to a deep depression that she never fully recovered from for the rest of her life. I had very little contact with my dad following the separation during my formative years. Some of this was due to my dad's character and some due to my Mother's desire to keep me from him. While Mother held bitterness toward my dad as long as I can remember, she didn't openly discuss him in front of me.
Being a single parent at such a young age in the mid-1940s presented a horrendous handicap for Mother. Society in general frowned on women in this category, classifying them as promiscuous. So much so that during my early toddler years, Mother seriously considered letting a distant relative living on a farm in the country adopt me. This never materialized for reasons unknown to me.
Mother married my stepfather, Forrest Harlan Evans, on October 21, 1949 when I was three years of age. My stepfather brought a one-and-half-year-old son into the marriage, Floyd Leon Evans. We initially lived in the city of Indianapolis, Indiana, but shortly after the marriage, my uncle Francis got my stepfather a job at the naval depot in the small Indiana town of Crane. The population of Crane, Indiana, as recently as 2014 was only 184. This wasn't farm life but it wasn't far from it.
We lived in Crane in the early 1950s for four to five years and one of my Crane memories of Mother pertained to a broken arm. During the fifth grade, I fell out of a tree and broke my right arm. Being right-handed, this handicapped my writing. Mother offered to and, in fact, wrote my homework for me during the entire period I was incapacitated. I certainly felt privileged at the time. Mother and my stepfather worked hard not to play favorites between my mother's son and my stepfather's son. However, being children, my stepbrother and I couldn't help to feel that my stepfather favored him, while my brother thought Mother favored me, realistically or not.
Following Crane, Indiana, we moved back to the city, Indianapolis, Indiana. Mother was a homemaker for most of this period while I graduated from grade school #39 and attended my freshman and junior years of high school at Arsenal Technical there. She worked an odd job here or there to help make ends meet. One of the odd jobs I remember her having was as a laundromat attendant. I visited her there a couple of times and remembered being proud of her for running the laundromat. Mostly, I remember her during this period in a depressed state confined to her favorite chair in the living room reading magazines while smoking cigarettes and drinking Pepsi.
We didn't do much together as a family. My stepfather worked two jobs as long as I can remember to provide for us. Mother and my stepfather were poor money managers and it seemed we were constantly in debt. One example of poor money management was our grocery purchases. While living on the near east side of town in Indianapolis, Indiana, on English Avenue, the majority of our grocery shopping occurred across the street from us at a ma-&-pa owned neighborhood convenience store. This meant we paid more for our daily needs than if we shopped at one of the major supermarkets.
Mother didn't drive so on the rare occasion when we went anywhere as a family it was when my stepfather was off work and then it would be primarily to visit family. One memory of a family excursion sticks in my mind and was a testament to our constant lack of funds. The four of us went to a drive-in movie theater. Kids were free, so for my brother Floyd and me, there was no charge but adults were charged admission. My stepfather and mother worked it out where she would hide in the trunk of the car to get in without paying. Once we were inside the drive-in and settled, my stepfather removed mother from the car's trunk.
My brother and I performed most of the household chores. We...
