DAD & DANDI

Hamilton, Missouri

Since my last blog featured Mom (Helen) and my big sister, Maureen, I decided to share these photos of Dad (Frank) and me, taken in the home where I grew up, the first and last house my parents owned. I loved growing up in a small town (population 1,701, before the shoe factory closed).

If you’ve read With Love, Wherever You Are, you know from the letters he wrote that Frank was a very good writer. Being a doctor, however, did get in the way of becoming an author. Still, the American Medical Association kept electing him secretary because they loved to read his witty versions of their boring meetings. Once, he had a cartoon in Reader’s Digest. And during a time before the Vietnam war became unpopular, he wrote an anti-war editorial for the Kansas City Star. I can still remember defending my dad’s stance when I went to school the day after the article came out, although none of us had a clue about Vietnam or war.

Advertisement

If all goes as expected, I should be arriving in Hamilton tonight, after a 2-day drive with Joe and Ellie and Cassie, ages 6 and 9. Then tomorrow we’ll all be at the public library/J.C. Penney Museum for two talks/readings/book signings. At 10, I get to talk mainly to kids. At 11, I’ll talk about the stories and letters behind WITH LOVE WHEREVER YOU ARE.

My roots are deep in Hamilton, and this picture is of my family. Dad was the family photographer, but Mom created these silhouettes. I remember sitting behind a sheet while lights and camera clicked on the other side of the sheet. In case you can’t guess, Mom and Dad are on top. Then Maureen (left) and Dandi. And last, Susie, our Dalmatian. Apparently, my first word was “Susie.”

I tried to lighten the silhouettes, but I’m not sure if these are better or worse. So, I’m including both. Sorry!

MOM & MAUREEN

Helen Eberhart Daley and Maureen Mae Daley

If you’ve read With Love, Wherever You Are, you might remember what Nurse Helen wanted to name their first baby. Things didn’t work out as planned. But after sadness and struggles, came Maureen, born in Washington D.C. She might not have come safely into the world if her dad, Dr. Frank Daley, hadn’t read recent articles about Karl Landsteiner, an Austrian-American, who had won a Nobel prize in 1930 for discovering that all human blood wasn’t the same. He saw that humans have “types” of blood, which he categorized as A, B, and C (later called O). In 1940, Landsteiner discovered another property of blood, a blood factor antigen, known as Rh factor. Soon, married couples had to take blood tests. And if an RH negative mother-to-be had an RH positive husband, pregnancy meant danger for baby and mother.

That was the dilemma Frank and Helen Daley faced soon after their return from the war. Frank researched until he found a doctor who would agree to treat Helen with a new (and not approved) immunization to offset the RH factor. And Baby Maureen Daley was born, though not without incident. The birth was hard, and Helen only glimpsed her baby before the nurse took her away. But Helen, still a nurse herself, had seen enough to know her daughter was a “blue baby,” lacking needed oxygen. She waited and waited. Finally, a nurse stood by her bed and said, “I’m so sorry to tell you that Baby Maureen Daley didn’t make it.” They nurse left Helen in tears. Then a different nurse came in, carrying a baby girl. This was Helen’s Baby Maureen Daley. The woman across the hall, named “Mrs. Daily,” had named her stillborn baby Maureen.

If you know my sister, Maureen Daley Pento, you understand what a gift she was and is.

THE BRIDE AND GROOM

Lt. Helen Marie Eberhart, Army nurse, and Lt. Frank R. Daley, M.D., fell in love in wartime, during Army training. After a whirlwind romance, they got married in Chicago (waiting in line for their turn at the altar, as other couples marched down the aisle before them).  A couple of weeks later, they were sent overseas to the front–and to different countries. It’s a miracle that their marriage held together during war, separations, and eventually 52 years of life and love.

As I wrote their story, WITH LOVE, WHEREVER YOU ARE, this is the photo that hung on the wall in my office, directly in front of me.

If you haven’t watched the trailer and the video clip yet, here are the links:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJL59-UsAyo&t=1s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMpbNFs687A

MY HAMILTON HOME–Wherever we are..

Soon I’ll be back in Hamilton, Missouri, where I grew up. If you’ve read WITH LOVE, WHEREVER YOU ARE, you know that Frank (my dad) grew up in Hamilton too. After WW2 ended, Frank and Helen (my mom) had big plans to set up a practice out East. They liked the Washington D.C. area and Arlington, where they were finishing their stint as Army doctor and Army nurse. Frank dreamed of starting his own practice in Florida, close to a beach and good tennis courts. Helen wasn’t a fan of the heat, but she wanted to live in a big city.

They ended up in Hamilton, Missouri, a small town with no beach, no tennis court, and no city, unless you drove an hour south to Kansas City. Dr. Frank Daley took over the practice of his dad, Dr. Daley, “temporarily,” when Pete had a heart attack. Helen and Frank never left. They built their first house–that’s it in the bottom left picture, with the oil drum in view. A few years later, they’d saved enough money to build onto the house. I think you can figure out the stages in the pictures from over the years, as they saved, then added on. My husband, Joe, and I adopted the same policy and only built onto our house when we’d saved the money to do it. I guess this is only one of the many things learned in Hamilton.

http://www.dandibooks.com

 

HAMILTON FIRE–help please!

Getting ready for our pilgrimage to my hometown, Hamilton, MO, I ran across these pictures. On the back, they’re labeled: Hamilton, but no dates. I’m hoping some of you native Hamiltonians can fill me in on the details and dates. I do know that one big fire that destroyed most of the buildings on Main Street turned out to be arson. And I’m thinking there were two fires. I know I’ve seen a picture of a big white building ablaze, and on the back, the photo read: Hamilton Theater burns. I also remember the fire department using water from the swimming pool to help put out a big fire. It’s a mystery I’m hoping someone can solve and set me straight.

A RARE RENDEZVOUS

This is one of my favorite pictures of Mom and Dad, Helen and Frank. One of their rare rendezvous took place in Marseilles, France. Lt. Frank Daley, MD, had a brief assignment there, where he got to know a young French boy who worked in the post office. The boy talked the good doctor into accompanying him to help his sister, who was suffering from an unknown ailment. Frank treated the girl, and on one visit during a storm, the family let him stay in a secret room below their barn, where the farmers had hidden French Resistance fighters.

Frank had to leave Marseilles, but he determined to meet Helen there someday soon, even if he had to go A.W.O.L. to do it. (And if you’ve read With Love, Wherever You Are, you already know all about that!)

http://www.dandibooks.com/with-love-wherever-you-are/

Video trailers:  https://youtu.be/LJL59-UsAyo  : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJL59-UsAyo&t=1s   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMpbNFs687A

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dandi.mackall

Twitter: https://twitter.com/dandiMackall

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/38952.Dandi_Daley_Mackall  

Blog: https://dandimackall.wordpress.com/

WITH LOVE–Hamilton, Missouri

In about 2 weeks, I’m going “home” to Hamilton, Missouri. I grew up in this small town, where we rode horses bareback, never locked our doors, and left the keys in the car. (Yes, I do realize times have changed.) Both of these pictures were taken before my time. The train no longer chugs across Main Street, and I’m pretty sure the Penney store closed. Hamilton was the birthplace and hometown of J.C. Penney, who went to school with my grandfather. The Penney Farm was just up the gravel/dirt road from our house. I graduated from Penney High School. And on Saturday, May 27th, I’ll be speaking and reading and signing books at the public library, which is in the Penney Museum. That night I’m speaking at the Alumni banquet. I am so excited and so very grateful!

I’m hoping to post a few more old pictures and memories before Joe and I and Ellie and Cassie, our 6 and 8-year-old granddaughters, head for Hamilton. Stay tuned!

WHEREVER (on Earth) YOU ARE

Dr. Frank R. Daley, MD, looks so serious, so angry. This is not an expression I recognize from my childhood. My dad was fun, witty, and always ready to play with his family–football, baseball, basketball, tennis, ping pong, poker.

I believe in this photo he’s deep into Germany, on the edge of a battlefield, sleeping in that tiny tent, where he could never keep warm enough. I think he’s wearing everything he has with him. And I believe he’s vowing that he will do whatever it takes to get back to Nurse Helen Eberhart Daley.

PETE & THE POWER OF STORY

Meet Pete. Dr. Lyle Peter Daley, MD was of the magical, or diabolical, age to have served in WW1 and WW2. In the second war, he taught Army medics and doctors, preparing them for battlefield care. Like his sons, the beloved Dr. Pete had a dry wit and ready smile. Legend has it that when I was born, he took one look at me and declared, “She’s a dandy!” It’s a nice story anyway. I think I have memories of Pete, my grandfather, who was never called anything but “Pete.” I can picture his large shoes under our dining table, where I’d taken refuge during the grownups’ dinner. I can picture him standing beside his old car, and me, clinging to his ankles because I wanted to go with him.

But I was only 2 years old when he died. And now, I can’t distinguish memory from story, stories I’ve heard dozens of times. Am I really remembering those moments?

It was Pete’s heart attack that made Frank and Helen leave Washington D.C., put off their plans of moving south to set up their medical practice, probably in Miami, and go to Hamilton, Missouri, to care for the town’s patients “until Pete recovered.” But Pete never grew strong enough to resume his role as town doctor, and Frank and Helen stayed…and stayed…and stayed–50 years.