Goodbye Grandma...

Yesterday evening my grandmother passed away.  She died in her own home and on her terms, with only her oldest daughter present.  She was ready to go and her passing was peaceful.  When I think of my grandmother there is one word that seems to exemplify who she was and why she was so special – strength.  Helen Marian Gage Johnson had strength of will, character, mind, body and heart. 

Marian with sisters around 1932 (Elaine, Norma & Pauline in front (L-R)

Marian with Orland & Bernard in 1929 - going to school.

Marian Gage & Frank Johnson - Married 1939

Grandma Marian was the 2^nd oldest child of the 10 children of Ora & Florence Shawver Gage.  She was never a tiny and delicate girl and was always big for her age.  When the depression hit her family, Grandma was the helpful daughter who helped her mother prepare food for their large family and helped take care of the younger children.  When her family traveled across Montana in 1934 with six children in a Model A, I know she was the best helper her mother could have asked for.  In 1935, after they moved to Hatter Creek, she went out along with her brothers and got jobs to help support her family.  Her mother was determined that she would graduate from high school, so she sent her to the Ursaline Academy in Moscow, ID.  The strength of will came in – as it did during much of her life – when she and a nun disagreed over something.  Grandma came back home to the farm and went to school in Potlatch, graduated in 1939 alongside her older and younger brother.  When Grandma Marian married later in 1939, she set out on her new married life with another trip across Montana to her new husband’s home in North Dakota.  Grandma Marian had to use all of the skills she had learned from her mother about cooking with very little as well as the determined spirit that her family knew so well.  She and her husband had little money or resources – but still had family members living with them in a tiny house and three children in quick succession.  In 1943, she had reached her limit and came back home to visit her family.  Very quickly it was decided that her husband would come out west as there were better opportunities in Idaho than back in North Dakota.  Grandma Marian & Grandpa Frank had two more children and lived in the old Hatter Creek School until 1952 when they moved in the Mountain Home area – just below Skyline Drive near Potlatch.  In 1965, Grandma Marian and Grandpa Frank moved to the Oregon City area, finally settling in Canby, OR.  After Grandpa Frank’s death in 1975, Grandma Marian’s parents moved nearby and for 15 years more they helped care for each other until their deaths in 1990 and 1991.  Grandma moved back to Idaho in 2001, and lived that last 10 years of her life in Lewiston, ID.

Grandma Marian showed her strengths in many ways during her life.  She was extremely intelligent and one of the best students in any school she went to.  Just a few months ago, could still rattle off several generations of British Kings and Queens.  What was even more endearing is when she and her brother would bicker over some teacher or event from their childhood.  I think Grandma required these spirited discussions with her older brother as they mirrored their lifetime together as siblings.  She loved her parents dearly, but she and her father clashed on several occasions.  Both were strong willed people and sometimes they didn’t always agree.  It is ironic that she dies on the same day as her father, 21 years after his death.  Throughout Grandma’s long life, she worked hard.  She worked hard as a wife and mother by preparing her families food and clothing and taking care of their needs and working alongside her husband on their farm with no complaint.  She worked the long hours as a cook and later in a chicken plant and ending her working life in a tool factory.  Just before she moved to Lewiston in 2001, she took up the computer as a hobby.  Grandma wasn’t one to be idle very long – so she began scanning and printing her mother’s pictures and making albums for her children and grandchildren. 

Grandma at her 90th Birthday party with her living siblings.

It is a testament to the remarkable person that she was – that wherever she went, she made lifelong friends.  My faith tells me that she is in a better place and with loved ones that she has lost. We will miss her stubborn unquenchable spirit and loving caring.  Grandma until we meet again – We love you and miss you!

The Gravestone

My mother was a young child when her grandfather died in 1945.  Mom had one memory of him.  She was trying to get across the living room and he sat in his chair and spit into the spittoon across the way from him.  Mom had cross his path to get to the other side – when she made the attempt, she got hit.  Not the most pleasant memory for a child of her grandfather.  A few years later, her own father was killed in a hunting accident.  Her mother and grandmother would make trips down to the cemetery to take flowers after his death on Memorial Day.  It really bothered them that my grandfather’s father had no gravestone and they decided to do something about it!  Grandma Cappy was fond of her ex father-in-law and didn’t like that none of his living children had put a gravestone on his grave.

In the spring of 1949, Grandma Cappy and Mom Friddle (Great Grandma Sophie) decided that they would make a gravestone.  They made a small form and poured concrete into the form.  Grandma Cappy then carefully wrote the name “John L. Tannahill” and his birth and death years.  They then left the concrete to cure.  That stone sat outside near the shed…I’m sure the people they employed as berry pickers were a little creeped out to see a gravestone and probably wondered if someone was actually buried there.  Memorial Day approached and they decided that it was time to place the stone.

Both of these women were under 5 feet in height and very petite.  However, they didn’t let that stop them.  Somehow they wrestled that stone into the back of the car.  When it was time to go down to the cemetery, Mom piled into the car as instructed and the flowers and several garden tools were added.  Mom found out in a short time, what those tools were to be used for.

 

The homemade gravestone made by my grandmother and great grandmother in 1949.

Grandma Cappy and Mom Friddle pulled up to the appropriate location and got out a shovel to start digging the area out to place the stone.  Mom’s eight year old mind was horrified.  What if someone saw them and thought they were grave robbers.  She got down on the floor of the car so no one would see her and think that she was involved.  Soon enough, the stone was wrestled out of the car and put in place – Grandpa Tannahill finally had a gravestone.

The new gravestone - placed around 2000.

As the years passed, it was obvious that the stone was deteriorating.  Mom talked about it with her cousin and they decided that they would purchase a new stone.  They talked to some of their other Tannahill cousins and pooled some money together and placed a new stone on the grave.  They did what their parents didn’t do…put a gravestone on their grandfather’s grave.  So when you go down to the cemetery today, that new stone is in place and the old one is now just a dim memory.  There are only a few of us who know the story of the Grandma Cappy and Mom Friddle making that stone and putting it in place.  It must have been quite a sight to see those two small women determinedly dragging that stone out of the trunk of the car and putting it in place.  Mom never saw them – she was still hiding!

Grandpa Winslow

I have found my great great grandfather to be a fascinating character.  I don’t think he ever had any fame or was anything special to society.  However, what I have read about him tells me that he was a good man who wasn’t afraid of hard work or a challenge.  He also was remarkably good humored and stories that I have read a great story teller.  Winslow Lonsdale Pope was born 1 Nov 1847 in Warwick, Drummond, Quebec and died 2 Oct 1928 in Weston, Middlesex Co., MA.  He was the son of Francis Pope and Belinda Willey and the grandson of Winslow Pope and Mary Wheelock.  Winslow was the second child in his family to be named Winslow Lonsdale Pope – he had an older brother who was born in 1839 and died in 1842.  I’ve never understood giving a child a name that had been an older deceased child’s name.  I’m sure I look at the situation with a modern interpretation. 

Winslow married Martha Rutherford in Barnet Co., VT on 30 May 1868.  They were married 11 years and had 4 children, 2 of whom survived to adulthood.  Martha woke up one night with severe abdominal pains as bad pains in the back of her head and neck.  She slipped into a coma and died shortly thereafter.  Winslow was left with two children to care for and must have been desolate with his wife’s death.  He married Nancy Ann Marie Lyons on 19 Mar 1881.  At 26 years old, she must have been considered to be an old maid.  Within 5 years, they had left New Hampshire and had traveled to Dickinson Co., IA.  There they had 4 of their seven children.  Here is a list of their children:

·        Shirlie Louisa b. 14 Jul 1881 Burke, Caledonia Co., VT d. 14 Apr 1927 Dunn Center, Dunn Co., ND

·         Anna May b. 5 Nov 1883 Bath, Grafton Co., NH d. 30 Nov 1935 Wing, Burleigh Co., ND

·         Mattie Winnova b. Jan 1886 Lake Park, Dickinson Co., IA d. 21 Jul 1901 Sioux Valley, Jackson Co., MN

·         Verna Myra b. 1 Mar 1889 Lake Park, Dickinson Co., IA d. 18 Sep 1946 Turtle Lake, McLean Co., ND

·         Hazel Bell b. 17 Dec 1891 Lake Park, Dickinson Co., IA d. 8 Jul 1921 Turtle Lake, McLean Co., ND

·         John Francis b. 26 Nov 1895 Sioux Valley, Jackson Co., MN d. aft 1934

·         Plumer Elwood b. 24 Nov 1897 Lake Park, Dickinson Co., IA d. 8 Nov 1981 Wells River, Orange Co., VT

The older children were:

·         Male Pope b. Jul 1869 Landaff, Grafton Co., NH d. Sep 1869, Danville, Caledonia Co., VT

·         Addie C. b. 20 Nov 1870 Haverhill, Grafton Co., NH d. 16 Aug 1872 Danville, Caledonia Co., VT

·         Francis Hooker b. 22 Jan 1873 Greenbank’s Hollow, Danville, Caledonia Co., VT d. 21 Dec 1934 Auburndale, Middlesex Co., MA

·         Viola Belinda  b. 15 Sep 1875 Danville, Caledonia Co., VT d. 2 Feb 1892 Lake Park, Dickinson Co., IA

Winslow with Shirlie and Anna May

Winslow and Nancy moved to McLean Co., ND sometime around 1905.  Not too long after their move, Nancy died of tuberculosis.   After the 1910 census, Winslow left ND and went back east.  His oldest son, Francis or Frank as he was called had moved to Middlesex Co., MA by 1897.  Winslow joined him after 1910 and married for the third time an older woman who was caring for her two nieces.  Winslow was settled in MA but still made several trips back to North Dakota to visit his family.  He had a good enough relationship to carry on a correspondence with his granddaughter, Nan Johnson.  We have copies of many of those letters. 

I suspect that Winslow had a pioneer’s heart.  He enjoyed the challenges that life offered and wasn’t afraid to move somewhere else if he saw an opportunity.  Winslow was recorded I Landaff, Grafton Co., NH in 1870, Bath, Grafton Co., NH in 1880, Sioux Valley, Jackson Co., N in 1900 and Washburn, Mclean Co., ND.  He was recorded for the last time in 1920 in Weston, Middlesex Co., MA.  We know that he was in Minnesota by 1885 because of the births of his children.    During his lifetime, he worked as a farmer, a lumberman and a cook.  He died at the age of 81 of a cerebral hemorrhage. 

Winslow - Taken about a week before he died.

When you consider the timeline of his life – it is sad to note that of 11 children – he outlived all but 5 of his children as well as two wives.  He also outlived all but one of his 10 siblings.  Yet when you read his letters there is a sense of humor and kindness that is evident to his granddaughter.  It is obvious that he was a good man and well beloved by his family.  This is pretty good epitaph for a lifetime, don’t you think?

The Greatest Generation - The Depression

When my grandmother was born in 1920, she was the adored first daughter of Florence Shawver and Ora Gage.  I remember being excited when I first got access to the 1920 census that I would be able to find my Dad’s parents in the census.  I was never able to find my grandfather and my father theorized that they were living on the breaks of the Missouri River.  However, there was another reason entirely for my grandmother not being in the census.  She was born on June 10 and the census was taken on June 9^th.  So, I had to wait until 1930 to first find her in the census back in Mapleton, IA where she was born.  My grandmother was a child of the depression.  She was old enough to remember better times but also old enough to understand what was going on. 

Marian in her store bought dress for her first communion!

When the depression hit in the late 1920’s and early 1930’s, rural families were in many ways lucky.  Unlike those that lived in the city, they generally had more food available.  My grandmother’s mother spent a lot of time growing gardens and canning the food that they grew.  They had chickens, cows that gave them milk, and hogs that provided meat.  My great grandmother sold eggs and butter to make money to support her family.  I remember my Grandma Marian saying that she hated to see that butter go…she loved butter on her bread.  She said that she felt bad for her younger sisters because they never had store bought clothes as she did.  By 1933, my great grandparents faced a choice – they could either not pay their taxes or leave their place and move on.  They chose to sign the property over to a friend and left for South Dakota.

South Dakota was not terrible friendly to my grandmother’s family.  They didn’t spend much time there and left for greener pastures.  My grandmother’s older brother was sick with what they thought was tuberculosis and was left behind at a sanitarium to heal.  The rest of the family traveled in a Model A and crossed Montana into Idaho in 1934.  There were 7 children who traveled in that car with their parents.  They spent some time at their uncle’s place in Jordan, MT then they traveled west.  My uncle Bernard remembered that they ate eggs in every form that my great grandmother could think of to prepare to feed their family

Within a short time after arriving in Idaho, the family bought land and made a home on Hatter Creek near Princeton, ID.  My grandmother spent little time at home – she worked out as they used to say.  She spent most of her time taking care of children and being paid to do so.  Grandma Marian then gave that money to her parents to help support her family.  She ended up in boarding school in Moscow at what they called the Ursaline Academy in Moscow, ID.  Grandma Marian does admit to a certain amount of stubbornness and this attitude didn’t work too well with the nuns at school.  She came home and ended up attending the local high school and graduating in 1939 with her older and younger brother from Potlatch high school.

 

Grandma Marian’s family survived the depression because they had parents who did what needed to be done…had children who as teenagers got jobs and helped provide for their families.  The girls took care of their younger siblings and the boys helped on the farm.  This story is no different than many others who lived through the depression.  Is it any wonder that these same children who lived through the deprivation of the depression are the same ones who fought our battles in World War II and stayed home and kept the home fires burning or built the machines needed in war- as Tom Brokaw labeled them, they were truly our “greatest generation! ” 

O Holy Night!

My Mom made a big deal out of Christmas….from the Christmas tree and decorations to the candy and cookies.  Her favorite thing about the Christmas season was music.  Music was an integral part of who she was and how she thought…but at Christmastime it was even more pronounced. Mom was a classically trained pianist and vocalist.  My name, itself, came from one of her favorite operas, Carmen. When she graduated from high school she had scholarships to Stanford and the University of Idaho and was a Peabody award winner.  The fact that her boyfriend at the time when to the University of Idaho might have had something to do with her decision to go to school there.  But if she had wished – she could have aspired to bigger and better things.  Mom said that she never regretted choosing to be a wife and mother rather than a professional performer. If you talk to a certain age group around Lewiston, ID, Betty Tannahill Johnson is still a well remembered Lewiston performer.  Mom did share her gift with numerous students through the years as well as her church and especially her family.  Growing up, I can remember listening to all the old classics from Bing Crosby, Perry Como, Dean Martin or even the Chipmunks on the record player at Christmas.  I especially remember listening to my mother play and sing at the piano for hours at a time.  Even the last Christmas she was alive, she still spent time playing on her piano despite the fact that she was on oxygen and her hands were crippled with arthritis.

Mom singing with her granddaughters.

  Her grandchildren remember singing with her at the piano just as her children did.  Of all of the Christmas music that she played and sang, there was one song that to this day is extra special to me.

Mom was the choir director at our church as well as the organist.  When the opportunity arose, she was also the soloist.  At Christmas Eve Midnight Mass…Mom’s talent really shone.  She would usually have the children’s choir sing a few songs as well as her adult choir.  Everything was orchestrated and planned.  Then the time came for Mom to sing.   At Christmas, she usually chose “O Holy Night!”  As Mom stepped up to sing, the church waited expectantly.  They were used to hearing her sing – but when she sang “O Holy Night,” it was special.

Mom singing with her choir at St James Catholic Church.

Mom singing a solo.

  Despite the large crowd and standing room only space – as she began to sing, a microphone wasn’t necessary.  She could fill the entire church with her voice and she let her love of God shine through her special instrument.  To this day, when I hear “O Holy Night” I am always reminded of my mother.  I like to hear someone sing it that has a great voice because most vocalists don’t do the song justice.  I was spoiled by mother’s beautiful singing.  So, as Christmas Eve approaches and I lay down to sleep.  I will dream that I am once again a child listening to her mother sing and marveling that that beautiful voice belonged to my Mom.  Merry Christmas Mom!  I love you and miss you!

A Special Delivery

When my father was a boy, his parents weren’t well off…in fact, they were poor.  I know that my father and his siblings didn’t really realize that circumstance until they were much older.  Dad’s family had what was necessary and made do with what they had.  In 1952, they moved from Hatter Creek (near Princeton, ID) to Mountain Home (just north of Freeze Church and just south of Skyline Drive).  After a lot of work and finagling…they had a larger home that was able to accommodate the family even though they were a long way from town.  Christmas was always a bit lean because of money and one Christmas was especially hard but really showed the generosity of spirit that some people have.

Dad was probably about 13 or 14 and as the oldest knew that money was tight.  But Dad had two younger sisters who expected Santa Claus to leave presents under the tree.  Grandma Marian and Grandpa Frank had to wait until payday to buy the gifts for their children.  The toys they ordered through the catalog were supposed to be there by Christmas.  Grandma and Grandpa anxiously waited for the toys to arrive and their post man knew of their anxiety.  Their mail was delivered from the town of Garfield, WA which was quite a ways away and during those times the snow and weather was especially brutal.  They didn’t have the equipment that we have today so travel was always difficult.  Mail was usually delivered to their mailbox which was a mile and a half down the road.  It was trip that during the worst of the snow they would take the horse to make the journey.

It was Christmas Eve and the presents had not arrived.  At this point, Grandma and Grandpa were heartbroken because they didn’t want to disappoint their children especially the little girls.  They gathered the small gifts that they had and pondered what they would do.  It was about seven at night when they heard a knock on the door.  Their postman had gone back to the post office and saw the package sitting there waiting for delivery.  He got the box on his truck and headed back out.  He knew that my grandparents had been waiting for that box.  By the time he got back to their mail box, the only way he could make it to the house was walking with a sled behind carrying the box.  He walked the mile and half to their house and delivered that box.  Even though this happened 60 years ago, my Dad still remembers that Christmas – not because of the gifts or because of the celebration but rather the kindness and extra effort a postman took to make sure some children had their Christmas.  

Happy 100th Birthday Grandma Cappy!

Today would have been my grandmother’s 100^th birthday.  Capitola Ester Friddle was born to David Carl Friddle and Sophie Vestelle Dollar on December 17^th, 1911 up on Grouse Flats, Wallowa Co., OR.  She was delivered by her uncle, Albert Friddles, who was the local midwife in a cabin.  At the time of her birth, her parents were 22 and 17 years old and already the parents of a 2 year old boy. 

Capitola's high school graduation picture.

Grandma Cappy was not an easy person.  She was a loving mother and grandmother but didn’t have what one might call the most developed maternal instincts.  Grandma grew up in serious times and therefore was not someone all that frivolous about anything.  My mother used to say that “work” was her God.    When something bothered her – she worked, when she was happy – she worked, when she was challenged by something – she worked.  Playing hooky was not part of Grandma’s makeup.  My nieces and nephews have both enjoyed “fun” grandmothers who did fun activities with them and actually were great fun to be around.  My grandmother grew up during the depression and her parents had little money for most of her childhood.  They learned to work to survive and make do with what they had.  This isn’t to say that I didn’t love my grandmother – I did.  As a child, I found her interesting to talk to and always tried to please her.  I’m sure I drove a lot of people nuts with my constant questioning, but my grandmother was patient and encouraged my intellect.  She died the day I went to college in 1985.  Her health had been failing for some time – but I know that her last thoughts were of her family because they were always the most important and driving force in her life.

When Grandma Cappy was a little girl living on the old homestead on Grouse Flats, she went to a one room school with all of the other children in the area.  She and her brothers always thought of the old home place with a lot of fondness….certainly a lot more fondness than their mother.  They moved to Pomeroy in the early 1920’s so Grandma’s brother, Jack could go to high school.  After Jack graduated from high school, they moved to Lewiston.  Grandma became the first class to go through Lewiston High School in their new building.  It is the same building that her daughters went to and my siblings and myself…as well as one of her great granddaughters.  We are all graduates of LHS.  Cappy went to college at the Lewiston Normal School and got a degree teaching.  At that point she met her boyfriend and later first husband, Richard Tannahill.  They eloped in Vancouver, WA on Dec 28, 1938.  Cappy’s mother, brothers and sister –in-law were present.  They married far away from Lewiston so they could keep her marriage secret and she could finish teaching the year. 

They waited four years for their first daughter and when my mother was born in 1941, my grandmother decided that would be the last child.  After all, her husband was off hunting and it was her brother who took her to the hospital to have the baby.  If Richard couldn’t for the birth…then there wasn’t going to be any more babies.  It must have been hard work to maintain a big home, take care of two babies and help her parents especially in the early 1940’s when her brothers were off fighting in two fronts in World War II.  Cappy and her brothers were very close and it had to tear Grandma up to know her beloved brother were in harm’s way.  Jack was her buddy…he probably knew her best because they were so close in age.  Claude was a beloved baby brother who she helped raise.  Claude used to tell me that Cappy swatted his backside more often than his mother. 

Richard died in 1947 as the result of a hunting accident.  She married Gwen Shearer about a year later.  At this point, Cappy ran a lumber lot at her home and was a sharp businesswoman.  Mom said that she could calculate lumber quicker than anyone she knew.  In 1956, Gwen Shearer’s mill burned down in Orofino, ID and they were in the process of building a new mill in Elk City, ID.  This took a serious financial toll…and Grandma decided to go back to school and get recertified to teach.  Cappy did what was necessary and started substitute teaching by 1959.  By the next year, she was teaching at Elk City’s grade school.  Grandma loved teaching and was very good at it.  She was tough but fair and from all accounts, her students loved her.  Grandma also adored animals and for most of her life, she had a pet as part of it.  When Grandma was teaching, her dog came to school with her.  She would spend most of the day on Grandma’s purse and the kids knew to stay away. 

Cleaning up after opening presents - Abt 1974

Grandma got her dream house in 1972 with a huge kitchen and a huge living room.  The fireplace was a masterpiece of rock that she and Grandpa Gwen had chosen.  All of her grandchildren have vivid memories of some of the best Christmas’s that a child could experience.  Most of the time, we would decorate the Christmas tree when we got up there.  Cappy would have put up the nativity set that my mother painted for her.  What was so wonderful about Christmas at Grandma’s house was the snow.  We would play on our sleds and the toboggan that they gave us for hours.  Only coming in for brief times to change socks and mittens and maybe eat something then we would go back out and play.  There wasn’t just a few inches of snow out there…but rather feet.  Many times Grandpa Gwen and Dad would come out and drag us up from the bottom of the hill with the snowmobiles, great memories and great fun.

My grandmother Cappy’s favorite flower was the poinsettia.  Every year she bought one for her mother, mother-in-law, herself and for her daughters.  Whenever I see poinsettia’s I think of her and my mother.  Mom loved them because of their color but also because of her mother.  As I put up the nativity set that my mother so lovingly painted for her mother – I place a large poinsettia behind.  You might say that this is a tribute to both women.  I never look at it without thinking of them.  So Grandma – wherever you are – Happy 100^th birthday.  We love you and miss you!