Posts Tagged ‘Missouri’

MY HAMILTON HOME–Wherever we are..

May 16, 2017

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!

May 13, 2017

Ham fire

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.

WITH LOVE–Hamilton, Missouri

May 11, 2017

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

May 8, 2017

battalion aid (2)

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

May 4, 2017

Pete (2)

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.

 

SUPER HELEN

April 30, 2017

helen-in-cape

I have to admit that I’m not sure how I came across this cape. I discovered it when I unrolled an Army sleeping bag. Helen did not like the Army’s fashion sense. More than once, she got in trouble for not wearing her helmet or her cap.

Who could blame her? Here’s how the Army described the clothing for Army nurses:  Cape, Olive Drab, Nurses’ – Stock No. 55-C-5910
Wool Barathea Cape in two layers, with newly designed collar and buttoned tab closure, in Olive Drab Shade No. 51      Jacket, Wool, Olive Drab, Women;  Skirt, Wool, Olive Drab Dark; Trenchcoat, Wool . . .

Adding insult to injury (as Mom used to say), nurses had to pay for their own uniforms–plus their nurse’s uniforms! Not many of my frugal parents’ uniforms survived because as soon as they were out of the Army, they re-purposed coats and jackets so they could wear them in civilian life.

WITH LOVE…Before and After

April 21, 2017

2 Franks

War changes everything, including warriors. Lt. Frank R. Daley, M.D. is in both photos. In the first one, I think he looks so young and eager, still stateside, but about to travel and see the world. In the bottom photo, he’s on his way to Alsace-Lorraine, a stopover before pushing into Germany with a battalion unit. He’s seen a lot, too much. He knows that the railroad car he’s traveling in was purloined from the Nazis. And he strongly suspects that the train had been used to carry captives to concentration camps.

I discovered the second photo in one of Frank’s letters to Helen. At first, I wondered at his odd expression from the box car. Then I read the letter. He explains that he was sucking on a rare piece of hard candy when the picture was taken.

WITH LOVE. . . In War

April 18, 2017

 

Imagine being crazy in love, marrying in haste because you might not be together until the war ends, then being shipped overseas to the front, but to different countries. With nothing but their letters to keep them together for months at a time, Helen and Frank (aka Mom and Dad) wrote each other 2-3 times a day, often signing: With Love, Wherever You Are. Delivery of those letters was unreliable, with no word for days and days, and then a flood of 14 letters.

These V-mails were supposed to travel faster than letters. Both Helen and Frank hated the V-mails because there was never enough room to say all they wanted to say. I had much the same reaction to the tiny V-mails, though for different reasons. Their handwriting had to be so tiny that the letters are hard to read. Thankfully, they discovered that the infamous V-mails traveled no faster than their regular letters, so they went back to writing letters.

Food ration stamps, mail stamps, and even matches bore war slogans. Frank wrote his bride: “War gets into every corner.”

WITH LOVE…In Rennes, France

April 15, 2017

Rennes 3

Helen eventually got to Rennes, France, where she cared for Allied soldiers with everything from trench foot and amputations to shrapnel and gunshot, rare diseases, and victims of shell-shock. She also cared for German prisoners of war and survivors of the horrible concentration camps. Frank moved from France to Alsace-Lorraine, then on into Germany, where he set up a battalion aid station. I love the picture with both of them on a rare rendezvous, the light from above shining down on them.

With Love, Hair-ever You Are

April 12, 2017

hair (2)

First lieutenant Frank R. Daley, M.D., U.S. Army, took issue with the orders of a certain bald Colonel, orders which had little to do with combat. I don’t understand why the colonel wanted Frank to cut his hair. Helen loved to run her fingers through those curls. But Frank’s refusal, along with his comment to the hairless colonel: “I guess misery loves company,” put him on the train to a much more dangerous assignment.