Age six -- back in the States

The return from Germany was exciting. We were on a Navy ship. I was 6 years old and still remember the Navy uniforms and how the officers on board would talk to me or pick me up when out on deck. I suppose they had their own families and children at home and missed them. Steven was about 20 months so Mom put a harness on him to make sure he would not go overboard. Mom was seasick most of the trip. I think she was pregnant with Greg. The 2 things that stand out in my mind are the ship’s doctor and the typhoon we got caught in. Somehow I developed an ingrown toenail so to the doctor we went. I remember how white and clean everything looked in his office. He sat me on the table and was talking to me and then started cutting on my nail. It hurt terribly and I wanted to cry so much but refused to let one tear fall in front of this man. Of course my mother was there also. So he bandaged me up and sent us on our way. The typhoon hit when we were all in the ballroom playing bingo. Everyone was sitting in folding chairs at card tables. All of a sudden the ship tipped one way and people fell out of their chairs. Some lady’s pearls broke and started rolling all over the place. We were at a place where there was a pipe. Mom held on to Steve, Dad held on to Victor and the 3 of us held on to the pipe. When the ship tilted our way I remember seeing those pearls rolling toward me. The whole episode was strange with people talking loudly and trying to get to their cabins. We made it back to our cabin where upon I went to sleep. (Being young has a lot of advantages, such as being unaware of imminent danger.)

Back to the States we went and Dad was then stationed in Arkansas. One of the events I forgot to mention in Germany was my Dad, at Christmas, flew Santa in from the North Pole. There were hundreds of Germans and Americans at the airfield and I was so proud that my Dad flew in Santa. Also I remember winning a coloring contest in the newspaper. It was a picture of a Christmas scene and I won a tea set. That is probably what started me wanting to be an artist.

We moved to North Little Rock, Arkansas when I was in the second grade. The year was 1951 and the South had just started integration in the schools. There was a lot of potential for violence so Mom and Dad put Vic and me in St. Josephs Orphanage as day students. Sister Mercedes was my second grade teacher. She was a little overweight and very formidable looking in her nun’s habit. I was a little intimidated by her so I became the quiet ideal student. One of the boys in class always picked his nose so she tried various ways to make him stop from gloves to locking him in a closet or locker in the room. Scared me half to death. I made sure I did not get any attention. I think it was that year that I skipped down the stairs and got a swat from Mother Superior with the willow switch and was told ladies do not skip they walk.

The orpanage was vast. Very wide steps led up to the main doors and it had a large yard surrounded by woods. The classrooms were very old with tall windows. I remember hardwood floors and long hallways. Going to lunch we could take crayons and a coloring book with us and we could not a word on the way to lunch, during and going back. When I finished eating, I would quietly work in my coloring book. The highlight for me was chapel. I loved the smell of the holy water, the incense and the beautiful statues of Jesus and Mary. We had chapel every day and studied catachism. Mom would tell me not to say the rosary but I found myself saying the Lord's Prayer and Hail Mary's with the rest of them. Someone always supplied me with a rosary. The beginning of the catachism started with questions such as Who is God. The answer was God always was and always will be. I asked my mom how could that be and she said you must have faith. She said people go crazy trying to find the answers to those questions and end up in institutions. That really put me off from thinking about it for many years. On the playground I always kept to myself. I knew the other kids did not have parents and I felt different having my Dad pick me up every day.

After school Dad would always pick up Vic and me and take us to the hanger where he worked. I think it was Ft. Robinson. Sometimes he would take us flying in his piper cub. We would fly over the house and wave to Mom down below. Sometimes he would do some rolls and dips and we loved it.