World War II – Dear Liza

Learning Something New at Fort Vancouver

Dear Liza,

I have been to Fort Vancouver a few times, and every time I go, I learn something new. I went with Cynthia last Friday and got so busy talking with the docents and guides that I almost forgot to take pictures!

I always have to remind myself that Fort Vancouver was not, in its earliest role, a military fort. It was the trading center for the Hudson’s Bay Company, a Canadian (therefore, English) run company.
At the historic reconstruction of the Fort, I asked about this symbol, which is posted prominently over the door of the Counting House.

One of the fellows explained that “Pro Pelle Cutem” translates to “A skin for a skin”, meaning that the men of the Fort were literally putting their skin (their lives) on the line to acquire skins, or pelts, for the folks back in Europe to use. In the logo are deer, beavers and a fox, to show which skins are the most important.

Later, we went to visit The Marshall House, one of the houses for Officers built after the U.S. Army took over the fort.
This grand Victorian house had been built in 1886 for use by whoever was in charge of the Fort at any given time. It had 12 fireplaces, a steam heated boiler in the basement, and stained glass in some of the windows.

Our guide, a charming gentleman named Jim, explained that the house was set up to show how it was when General George Marshall lived there from 1936 to 1938. This was the man who had created and carried out the Marshall Plan that helped with the reconstruction assistance to Europe after the devastation of World War II.

This was (to me) a whole new page from history !

In 1937, a Russian long-distance aircraft, called “Stalin’s Route”, and its crew of three flew 62 hours from Russia, over the North Pole, and were headed to California. Bad weather over the Pole caused them to run low on fuel and they had to land at Fort Vancouver.

The folks at the fort were caught by surprise, but in spite of the language barrier, did all the right things. The soldier manning the air field allowed the plane to land and protected it from being disturbed. General Marshall had the pilots escorted to his house where he provided baths, breakfast, and suits to wear, since all they had were their dirty flight suits. The crew were interviewed for the local newspaper and General Marshall invited them to sleep at his house.

The crew had a month-long tour of the U.S., ending in Washington D.C. where there was a state dinner with President Franklin Roosevelt before heading home to Russia.

Always something to learn, if you keep your eyes open.

Love,

Grandma Judy

What’s in My Name?

Dear Liza,

My Art Journal assignment for Monday was to make a picture of the origin or meaning of my name. This became a bigger project of memory, photo hunting, and watercolor. Yehudit is the Hebrew origin of my name, Judy. It means both “praised” and simply “ a woman from Judea.” But Julia Harris, the woman I am named after, had more American beginnings. Born in about 1915, the youngest daughter of an Arkansas pig farmer, she was given the elegant name “Julia” in hopes she would be pretty and marry well.

But once Julia grew up, she had no interest in marrying. She took advantage of World War II to move far from Arkansas, change her name to Judy (Julia was just too fancy) and work for McDonnell-Douglas aeronautics in California as a riveter.

My Momma was working there, too, and they became great friends. Both being from large farm families, both out on their own for the first time, they would go bowling together when their shifts ended. Then Momma met Dad and got married, and quit work to stay home and make babies.

Fast forward a year or so. Momma, now home with my big brother Tim and pregnant with Jim, listened to my dad tell about the new ‘girl’ at work. He described her so clearly that Momma recognized her friend Judy. Judy had left work at the plant shortly before Mom and Dad got married, returning to Arkansas.

When she returned, she told of how she had married a boy back home and that he had been killed in the war. She had come back to work in California with her old friend Ruth, and they took an apartment together. Ruth was a real estate agent (a rarity for women until the war took all the men away) and Judy kept up her engineering training at McDonnell-Douglas.

Judy and Ruth remained close to my parents for the next eight years, and when my Mom finally had her girl (me) she named me Judy after her dear friend.
I must have met Judy when I was a baby, but I don’t remember it. She and Ruth moved to Lancaster, California, and then Sedona, Arizona, and we just never got to visit. She and Momma wrote regularly, and I heard about her my whole life.

Fast forward to 1998. After my Dad died, I asked Momma where she would like to go, who she would like to visit. First, we spent some time with family in Oklahoma.

Then we went to Sedona. Judy had lost Ruth just the year before. They had been together since 1946. Their double wide mobile home was decorated in the height of style from the 1960s, with rattan furniture and ceramics with an Asian theme. Judy, at the age of 86, led us on hikes, visits to the Church of the Rock, and a full day of pancakes and antiquing in Sedona. When we were too tired to walk anymore, we talked ourselves blue in the face.

I liked this woman I was named after. She was direct, strong, positive, and funny. She had made her way in life with a partner, not a husband, and she had lived a good life.

Then Momma and I went back to California. Judy and I wrote back and forth, and called each other on holidays. A few years later we got word that Judy had passed away at the age of 97. She had a good, long life. Momma passed a few years later.

This is the best photo I have of Judy and Momma, taken that spring in Sedona. But the most important things about both of them didn’t show on the outside, anyway. Momma’s kindness and loving heart, and Judy’s strength, friendship, and willingness to live a good life in her own way, don’t show up in pictures. But they make fine people.

I wish the same for you.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Giving Back

Dear Liza,

While we were living in Salinas, I got to be friends with a wonderful lady named Ruth Andresen. Ruth is the mother of Pete, one of the most involved parents University Park ever had, and grandmother of four of our students. Ruth was born in 1921, so she is exactly the age your great grandma Billie would be.

I met Ruth because we were both active at The First Mayor’s House, also called The Harvey Baker House, the oldest building in Salinas. Ruth has lived in Salinas since the 1940’s and actually knew some of the people who lived in this historic house, Florence Baker and her sister Helen. They were little old ladies when she was a young wife and mother in the 1950s, and she used to go visit them. They would tell her stories of their childhood in 1890s Salinas. She heard history, as they say, from the horse’s mouth!

When I was learning about Salinas history to write stories and curriculum for the House, I started visiting Ruth. We talked about history, but she also told me about her life. She was a geology student at Stanford University when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, which started the western end of World War II. As a graduate, she worked in Washington to help create maps that helped with the Normandy Invasion! “It was such an exciting time to be a young woman in the world”, she said. “There was important work to be done and we got to do it.”

Ruth is still helping people learn about history. She does spinning demonstrations to show people how pioneers turned wool into yarn, and gives lectures about the “Old Days”.

She also helped organize the very first Founder’s Day Celebration in Salinas. The first one was so small, even the newspaper didn’t say much about it, but by the second in 2017, there were hundreds of people! In 2018, thousands of people came to visit the Harvey House, attend lectures, play carnival games, listen to music, and have pony rides. It took dozens of people to make it happen, including my dear friend and former Principal, Mary Randall, but at the center of it was Ruth. In my carelessness, I do not have a photo this wonderful woman! (I was probably enjoying our conversations so much I hated to interrupt for a photo.) Silly Grandma Judy.

Anyway, for the second Founder’s Day, there was going to be a quilting booth, showing folks how to quilt and displaying old and new quilts. I was going to make a small one during the day as a demonstration. But so many other groups wanted booths, the quilting booth didn’t happen.

**Almost done quilt, and Mouse the cat**

And now, with the extra time that comes from not preparing lessons and teaching every day, I have gotten it out and am almost done. It will be wrapped up and returning to Salinas very soon. Thanks for all the stories, Ruth!

Love,

Grandma Judy