CHAPTER 1

Ruth

I am Ruth Janice Johnson Jolly of Des Moines, Iowa, and was thefirst born of Lewis and Ida Fern Keeling Johnson. On March 3,1922, I was born at home, a few miles west of Norwalk, Iowa, in ahouse which is no longer there, on the north side of the road.

My parents were married on June 8, 1921, at my mother's homenear Avon Lake and Carlisle, in the northeast corner of the diningroom. My Auntie Marie tells me chicken sandwiches, wedding cake,and coffee were served.

Things keep coming into my mind so fast as I write this. Onememory jumps right into another memory. I'm afraid it may bejumbled, this telling of events.

I weight about 113 pounds now, which is just what I weighedwhen I graduated from Indianola High School in 1939. I jumped upto 132 pounds eating hospital food when I was in nurses trainingat Iowa Lutheran Hospital in Des Moines from 1941 to 1944. I wasfive foot two, but have now shrunk to five feet and my proportionsare different than in 1939.

My hair was light brown till it turned grey and I have greeneyes. I sunburn and bruise easily.

As I was growing up and while both sets of my grandparents werealive, we took turns every other Sunday, after going to church, visitingone of their homes. All of my mother's brothers and sisters and theirchildren were at my parents' house and the same at my dad's. Thatmeant a houseful, as I had lots of cousins. At Grandpa and GrandmaKeeling's we kids, me being the oldest, ate in the kitchen while thegrownups ate in the dining room. I remember my cousins Dick, Barband Peg being fond of olives and on Sunday in particular when therewas a lot of "olive throwing." As shy as my sister, Jeanne, and my brother,Merrill, and I were, it is hard to imagine us being involved in this.

The Keeling farm is a beautiful, big place just northwest of Carlisle.It is said that Charles Keeling, my grandfather, was one of the leadingagriculturalists of Allen Township, as owner of 210 acres of valuableland. Jeanne and I always stayed several days and nights at the farmduring the summer. We slept in the same room as our Auntie Marie,my mother's sister, who was not married yet. She always told us storiesafter we went to bed. She was a first-grade teacher.

In the evening we would take turns riding on Grandpa'sshoulders when he'd go out to shut up the chicken coop in the grove.He was the nicest, kindest man I can ever remember knowing. SinceI was the first grandchild, I got a lot of attention.

The farm has a big, red-brick barn and silo. There used tobe a cave just north of the house where fruits, vegetables, eggsand home-canned goods were kept all winter. It always had thatwonderful fruit smell and was so cool in the summer time.

In their house they had a big, upright Victrola with manyrecords and we spent hours turning the crank by hand. There wasalso a player piano with many rolls of music. We had to peddle withour feet to get them to roll to make the music. The house still has ahuge, screened-in porch covering the entire front of the house witha swing, hammock and chairs.

Everyone was poor in those early days. We didn't realize we werepoor, as everyone else was poor too, and just like us. My dad separatedcream from milk and traded it in town for groceries—the barter system.My aunt told me my mother had only three dresses but did beautiful"fancy work" and would trade it with her sisters for dress material.My mother made all of my clothes and Jeanne's. I remember the firstdress I got to pick out in a store in Des Moines when I was nine or ten.Mostly our dresses were made from flowered feed sacks and our pillowcases were, too. Before I turned 12, every year we got our hair cut whenschool was out for the summer. We sat on a board across the barberchair arms, so we'd be high enough for the barber to reach us. Onesummer I got a new style called "windblown." When we were done, weeach got to buy a five-cent ice cream cone. That was a really big deal!

I didn't see my first movie till I was twelve. I believe it was aShirley Temple, but I don't remember much about it.

I do recall having my tonsils removed at age five at a DesMoines' clinic. It was done in the morning and I know I was givenvegetable soup with green beans in it later that day, but there wasno way I could swallow anything.

We ate lots of cornbread and beans and so many cannedcherries that I was not too fond of. My mom baked all the breadand made lye soap in a big, black iron kettle outdoors in the fall,after my dad had butchered. The soap was put in containers and cutwhen it was dry enough and put in the attic to finish drying.

Butchering day was a big day. A pig or cow would be killedand hung in a tree by its feet. This would be done at the start ofcold weather. The meat would be smoked or canned. We raisedmany chickens so we had lots of fried and stewed chicken, and allour own eggs. We even had incubators in the basement where mymother hatched baby chicks. We had a huge garden, raising andcanning everything. My mother was a wonderful cook and baker.She would prepare big meals when the thrashers would be at ourplace with their large thrashing machine. It seems there musthave been 16 to 18 men and they were hungry, so she'd have hugedelicious meals. There is nothing like young fried chickens that arekilled and dressed and fried the same day.

Of course we had no refrigerator or ice box—only a cistern witha box, with shelves that we cranked up or down. It kept the butterand food cool in the summertime. We did have lots of homemadeice cream, as we had all the ingredients except sugar and we hadto go to town to the ice house for the ice. I'm thinking of the bestmaraschino cherry ice cream that Auntie Marie often made forSunday dinner. Then we had steak, gravy, hash browns, and milkfor breakfast. My Uncle Floyd always wanted ice in his glass of milk.We had a huge orchard for our own fruit, including apples, cherries,and plums.

We went to Sunday school and church every week at theChristian Church in Norwalk. My mother taught a Sunday schoolclass and my dad was superintendent at one time. We dressed up inour very best clothes. I went forward at a revival meeting and wasbaptized at age eleven.

When we visited my other grandparents, John and ElizaChiles, (my dad's father died when my dad was 17 and his motherremarried) the gardens had the most beautiful flowers which tookup most of the front yard. I especially loved the holly hocks thatcame up all over every year. She also had a fish pond near the flowergardens. How my daughter, Crystal, would have loved that garden!

They also had a cave to keep food cool where we would go when asummer storm was threatening. It was at their house I learned to reallylike creamed, stewed tomatoes with chunks of cooked mango peppers.

When they got a "crystal" radio, it was such a magical thing. Wehad to wear the earphones and there was an arm with some sort ofneedle on the end of it. We'd set the needle in a different place on the"crystal" top and be able to actually hear a man talk! We listened to"Jack Armstrong," "One Man's Family," "Ma Perkins," "Fibber McGeeand Molly," and "Gang Busters." "Inner Sanctum" was a scary favorite.It came on in the evenings and once when Jeanne and I were listening,Dad really scared us by going outside and scratching on the window.

My grandparents had no phone. I believe we got our first phonearound 1925.

We had so much fun with all my cousins. Ralph was my ageand Hugh just a little older. When Hugh was 13 and Ralph was 11,they drowned in the Des Moines River when they were on a SundaySchool outing at the Ledges State Park, near Boone. In those days,the body was kept in the home after being embalmed. The bodyand casket was there until the funeral and the family, with friendsand relatives, stayed up all night with the body.

The boys' bodies, in their caskets, were in a small bedroom off theliving room. All the adults sat up all night but we kids slept crosswaysin beds upstairs. I was 11, and Jeanne 8. Merrill, my brother had notyet arrived. Harold was my youngest cousin at the time, as he had justhad his third birthday. We kept him with us the day of the funeral. Hewas the cutest little curly-haired blond I've ever seen.

For some reason I was always afraid our house would catch onfire. I was afraid to go to sleep at night and tried to plan how I wouldescape out our bedroom window onto a porch roof and jump.

We were also frightened by the noises and running sounds inthe walls of the house. Dad told us not to be afraid as it was onlyrats in the walls.

The basement was a scary place too, as it had a dirt floor and Iknow there were mice and rats there too, I'm sure.

Grandma Chiles lived another five years after Grandpa John died.She spent most of that time living two to three months at a time witheach of her children. When she was with us, we put a bed for her in thedining room. She had a finger game she played with Jeanne, my cousinGertrude and I. A rhyme went with it and I have no idea where shelearned it—may have been something popular at the time. It makes nosense really, but this is the way I remember it sounding to me as a child:

Eenery, beanery, kittry corn, apple seeds and apple thorn,Wire, briar, limber, lock, seven geese sitting in a flock.Up jumped Todd with his big long rod and scared them all off theWiggly Wob.

One flew east and one flew west and some flew over the cuckoo'snest.

William Tatrempity eats good melon,

Catches hens and puts them in pens.

Some lays eggs, and some lays none.

Underfoot, specklefoot, trip up your way and be gone off home.

I taught this to my daughter, Crystal, and Jeanne taught it to herdaughter, Diane.

I had whooping cough the last of January 1927, when I wasnearly five. According to my baby book, I had it very hard. Myparents were moving at this time, so my Grandpa and GrandmaKeeling and aunts and uncles living at home took care of me. I canremember coughing so hard that Uncle Floyd would hold me up tothe sink, as I usually vomited from the coughing.

I had chicken pox in the spring of 1932 and mumps in 1935.The three-day measles waited until I was a freshman at SimpsonCollege in May of 1940.

I started first grade when I was five and a school bus pickedme up in front of our home. I went all day, five days a week, andtook my lunch in a tin dinner bucket. We lived on a dirt road andin rainy weather, especially in the spring when the frost went out ofthe road, it had deep ruts and sometimes only a horse and wagoncould get us out. Sometimes in the winter, the snow was so deep,we'd go to school on a bobsled that had a canvas covering to helpkeep us warm. It wasn't unusual for the snow to cover the fenceposts. Everyone wore long underwear all winter.

When it was hay time, I rode the horse that pulled the hay fromthe wagon onto a pulley at the top of the barn and inside acrossthe barn. My dad would holler loudly so I'd know to turn the horsearound and walk back to the barn while dad tripped the fork of hayto fall in the hay mow. I liked this.

My mother always baked an angel food cake on our birthdaysto take to our class. At the same time, she'd make a small one andgive it to the janitor, Joe Kennedy. I remember him being short andplump and round—but maybe he wasn't. My mother was such akind, sweet person—and didn't want anyone to feel left out. She waspresident of the PTA and liked by everyone.

My first pair of overalls was blue and white striped. We gotthem when we were in elementary school to wear in the winter athome. Pants were not worn by girls then, but I sure liked them.

We always stood and said the Pledge of Allegiance at thebeginning of each school day and prayed.

It was always a big deal when the Fuller Brush man or the Watkinsman came with their suitcases of samples for us to buy. There wasWatkins' vanilla, spices, ointments, etc. It was a thrill for Jeanne and Ito stand back and watch as the salesman showed everything to mom.

The few months we lived in town, in Norwalk, when I was twelve,were a lot of fun. After dark several of us would play "chalk mark"all over town. We divided up into two sides. One side had a piece ofchalk and would go ahead of the other group, putting chalk arrows inthe direction they were going. Marks would be on the sidewalk or onposts. Then the other group would follow their marks all over town.There was never any fear of kids out roaming the streets after dark, asthere is today. In the winter it was always dark when the mail came tothe post office and we kids usually went up after it.

I had two years of tap dancing and ballet when I was 13 to 15years old. I wasn't really very good and I imagine the folks gaveme lessons hoping to somewhat bring me out of my shyness. Itdidn't work that way. I practiced tap dancing on the wood floorof a sleeping porch. Jeanne and I had a few piano lessons before Iwas 12, but I didn't take to that either. I was really only an averagestudent. I was so shy and really didn't apply myself as I wish I had.Looking back, I wish I'd studied harder and gone into psychologyor studied how the brain works; why we do the things we do, etc.But now it is too late. Learning has never been easy for me; nor hasmemorizing.

I should add that I can sing and carry the tune to most any songin my head. It's just not in tune when audible! Isn't that a shame?

We had to use an outhouse on the farm till we moved when I was12. When we went to the outhouse before bed it was dark and we werereally afraid. Mom would take a lantern and go with us. There werelots of wild dogs that roamed in search of people. They would like toget into the chicken coop and they howled, and it really was scary.

We had no electricity and used kerosene lamps. I believe our firstelectricity was when we moved to Norwalk in about 1934 or 1935.

Often in the warm weather, we'd have a tramp knock on theback door. We never thought of being afraid, as they didn't harmanyone. Mom always had something to feed them. One asked fora piece of bread and butter with no jelly. Evidently he'd had jellyeverywhere he'd been before.

My dad bought and ran a small restaurant and oil station inIndianola. In 1937 he ran for sheriff of Warren County and won.He was sheriff until 1951. We lived in the old county jail until about1939 when the new courthouse was built, and we moved into it. Mymother made all the meals for the prisoners. They got very goodfood three times a day and even sweet rolls on Sunday mornings.Jeanne or I often carried the food on plates to the window for theprisoners. There were as many as 12 to 15 prisoners at a time. Therewere two cells for women only in a separate part of the jail.

Warren County was considered a "dry county," as my dadinfluenced the town leaders in following a town ordinanceprohibiting bars or any alcohol sold in the town of Indianola, at all.

There weren't even any cigarettes sold in the city, either. I especiallyfound it exciting when I got to ride in the car with the siren on, andride what seemed very fast to me.

Dad was involved in several big legal cases during his termin office. One in particular was the straw stack murder case. Theactual murder took place in 1925 when a woman was killed andthen her body burned in a straw stack. But the case didn't breakuntil my dad's term in office, when the murderer's wife said herhusband confessed to the killing when he was out in California.My dad and another officer drove to the West Coast and broughtthe man back to Iowa. But the wife wouldn't testify during the trialbecause her husband had threatened her, so they lost the case andthe man got off. However, everyone knew he was guilty and hekilled himself six months later.

My dad's time in office was the longest term served by a sheriffin the history of the county. When he retired he was not a candidatefor re-election.

When my mom was pregnant with my brother Merrill, I canremember hearing my mom and dad talk, after we had all goneto bed, about the pros and cons of having the baby at home or atthe hospital. She ultimately decided to have him at home, like shehad Jeanne and me. He was born on February 5, 1934. I was nearly12 at the time and since neither Jeanne nor I was old enough totake over for mom on the farm, the folks hired a Mrs. Mullinswho went from home to home when a new baby was born. Wewere fond of potato soup and when we heard she was going tomake it, we were thrilled. What a disappointment! It was mostlypotato water with a few slices of potato. We were so shy, we didn'tcomplain, but I'm sure we didn't take second helpings. To this daywe remember her as "Potato Soup Mullins." I was delighted to havea baby brother and got to take care of him a lot. Since I was theoldest, I got lots of practice bottle feeding all the new cousins whocame along after.