The Clemens children went to the county school just down the hill, and then to St. John’s Grade School in the former St. Mary’s Hall, a big, two-story brick building a mile away. The three oldest girls were so close in age that Grandma held Mary back a year so she and Elizabeth could start school … [Read more...]
1.011 The Clemens Farm (part 1)
My grandparents, Matt and Barbara Clemens, were known for attending funerals. Relatives, close friends, acquaintances, people they barely knew: it didn’t matter. They went to all of them. It was their social center. If anyone wanted to visit them and a nearby funeral was happening, they knew Grandpa … [Read more...]
1.010 Minnesota Catholics and Cows
1920 • Minnesota ~ When the wheels needed to be changed or the axles greased, my father—not yet a man—lifted the more than 200-pound hay wagon with his back, raised it higher with his arms, and held it steady while his older brother Aloysius, or Louie as the family called him, slipped the new wheel … [Read more...]
1.009 Everything is a Gamble
Feb 4, 1933 • Colusa Sun-Herald, Colusa ~ At an early hour this morning Miss Noreen Chatfield became the bride of Carl Clemens of Rochester, Minn., at a ceremony performed in Our Lady of Lourdes Church immediately following 8 o’clock mass services. The members of the immediate families of the couple … [Read more...]
1.008 Golden Eagle Cafe
1932 • Colusa, California ~Three years into the Great Depression, when there were no jobs and little money and Herbert Hoover was unable to keep his campaign promises of prosperity, my grandmother, 59-year-old Nellie Chatfield, moved to the bustling rice town of Colusa, the county capital built on a … [Read more...]
1.007 Sign of the Cross
More backstory • Chico ~ As she got older and her burning feet made it too far to walk, Roy drove his mother the mile and a half to 7:30 morning Mass. Cruising up in his black four-door Hudson Terraplane sedan, hopping from the car, offering her his arm and walking her up the thirteen red brick … [Read more...]
1.006 Sketches of Chatfield Clan
My grandmother ruled the roost and her word was law. There was no question about it. As a result of her righteous positions, she was on the outs with most of her children throughout her life—and the higher she stood on her moral ground—the lower her family descended. Family Lineage Charles Henry … [Read more...]
1.005 Boucher Street, Chico
In 1915 the Chatfields left Los Molinos and moved to the up-and-coming agricultural town of Chico, buying a fairly new two-story corner residence in the Chapmantown district, a working-class neighborhood near the Diamond Match Factory. In those days most people rented; few owned their own homes. … [Read more...]
1.004 My Mother’s Father
Sep 30, 1915 • Red Bluff Daily News, Los Molinos, California ~ WOMAN ALL ALONE GIVES BIRTH, CHILD TAKES CARE OF IT. LOS MOLINOS. — When a baby girl was born last night to Mrs. C.H. Chatfield of this place, the woman, unaided except by some of her small children, rose from her bed, washed and … [Read more...]
1.003 Canada, Cuba, or Bust
A letter from my grandmother Nellie (Chamberlin) Chatfield (age 30) to her younger sister Mamie Chamberlin (age 16). At the writing, Nellie had five children: Charlie Jr., Leo, Howard, Roy, and 6 month old Nella May. Two years after Roy was born, Nellie Mary "Nella May" Chatfield came along. She was … [Read more...]
1.002 Crazy Quilt
1895 - 1915 • Nellie ~ My grandmother started her crazy quilt in 1895, the same year she started her family. Twenty years later, with the birth of my mother, Noreen Ellen "Babe" Chatfield, she completed them both. During Nellie’s first period of confinement (it was improper for pregnant and … [Read more...]
1.001 My Maternal Grandparents
Dec 26, 1894 • Fruita, Colorado ~ In a ceremony in her parents' home, my grandmother, twenty-one year old Nellie Chamberlin, married Charles Henry Chatfield, a ranching man of twenty-four. Nellie was a no-nonsense Catholic girl and exceedingly religious, but she also had a mind of her own, and … [Read more...]
1.06 Chico and Grandma Chatfield
1940s • Chico ~ Every summer Mom took the kids to visit her mother, Nellie Chatfield, who still lived in the two-story house on Boucher where my mother grew up. Chico was even hotter than Sonora during the summer, in the 100s every day. To cool off the family took daily picnics to Bidwell Park … [Read more...]
1.05 Summer Camping
1945 • Pinecrest ~ Every summer the family spent a couple of weeks camping in Pinecrest, pitching a tent and sleeping under the stars at night, boating, swimming, and fishing for perch and bluegill all day. Dad came up on weekends. The kids were free as wild finches from dawn until dusk, Larry and … [Read more...]
1.04 Lucky Strike Girl
1945 • Sonora ~ At five, Betty opened her first business. She admired the ads of the Lucky Strike girls wearing long gloves, short skirts, high heels, and satin pillbox caps. She particularly applauded the ingenuity of the lacquered trays they carried like a personal shelf supported by a strap … [Read more...]
1.03 A Chicken Named Blackie
Mid 1940s • Sonora, California ~ Larry and Carleen went everywhere together. They were a year apart (he was born in 1934, she in '35) with the same dark brown hair and brown eyes. When he was four Larry wore an eye patch, and in first grade, glasses. He had a lazy eye, the only thing ever lazy about … [Read more...]
1.02 104 Green Street
1943 • Sonora, California ~ My father first took a job as manager of the Sprouse-Reitz on Washington Street. Mom came in and helped out. Ten years younger, with jet-black hair like her mother’s and grandmother’s, she wore red lipstick and a wide smile. He was the boss, quiet-spoken, good … [Read more...]
1.01 Part I, Faded Snapshots, Sonora
1943 • Sonora, California ~ Emerging from the crown of Highway 49 and a mile from end to end, the town of Sonora is tucked into the foothills and ravines of the Sierra Nevada, the gateway to California’s gold mining region. In the mid 1800s it was a whirlwind of change, a booming and often … [Read more...]
0.iii Prologue
Audio: Prologue (click arrow to listen) My brother Larry was under the illusion that our mother was a good mother, but he had a different childhood than the rest of us. My sisters were convinced otherwise: Carleen complained Mom was thoughtless and self-centered, Betty resented her for abandoning … [Read more...]
0.ii Dedications, Billet-Doux, Credits
Dedications To my siblings: this memoir is for them to Stephanie Moore: who directed her students with grace, gratitude, and courage and to Michael Naumer: who cautioned, "Sometimes you eat the bear, and sometimes the bear eats you." Writing a book is not a solitary event, and this one would not … [Read more...]
Through Any Given Door: Web Serial
What follows is what I’ve been told, what I recall, and what my family claims I’ve made up. Some stories I’ve never disclosed; some I’ve recounted so many times I can’t remember if they’re even true anymore. But do we ever recollect what actually happened? Certainly we remember our version—and what … [Read more...]
Keeper of the Lines
Why bother? I mean, really. They’re dead. Who cares about the past, and what difference does it make? However, there are occasions when we do something for its own sake, simply because it’s interesting or satisfying, or it feels worthwhile. For several years I’ve researched my genealogy, gathering … [Read more...]
A Dwarf, A Boy, and His Dog
Larry ~ My brother and oldest sister were a year apart, with the same dark brown hair and brown eyes. When he was four, Larry wore an eye patch, and in first grade, glasses. He had a lazy eye, the only thing that was ever lazy about that boy. In September of 1940, he attended first grade … [Read more...]
Bacon and Piggy Banks
Our family moved back and forth between the towns of Vallejo and Watsonville. In 1940, Dad was working for Union Ice Company. He was a top ice-refrigerator salesman, then became a manager and foreman of the ice delivery crew. He occasionally took Larry with him on deliveries. My brother was … [Read more...]
Pass the Potatoes
At the dinner table, Ma–my grandmother Barbara Clemens–put only one item on her plate at a time, which was an enormous bother. When the rest of the family raised their forks to take a bite, it would be time to please pass her the platter of meat… the plate of potatoes… the basket of bread. It … [Read more...]
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