Dad's earliest childhood memories were of sitting alone for hours on the steps of his apt. while his mother worked. When prodded about how a mother could leave her small child at home alone, he said he thought maybe she paid a next door neighbor woman to watch him, but the neighbor never bothered with him, because he remembers being very lonely. He didn't speak English until he went to school at age 7 because his mother spoke German to him at home. His father was absent during his earliest memories, but around the age of 7 he remembers his mother introducing him to a man that she said was his father. My father pretty much hated this intruder he now must call father. He held him in contempt for leaving his mother and him. He had an older sister who was raised by relatives because his mother couldn't afford to raise two children without the support of a husband. After his father returned to the family, his mother had 5 more children. My father's education ended in the ninth grade. He needed to work to help support the family because in his words, "his father had to buy everybody a round of drinks."
My father met my mother when she was 16 years old (he was 25) and knew he wanted to marry her. He started giving part of his paycheck to her so they could save up to start their life together. They married in 1942. Dad joined the Navy and wherever he was stationed, Mom followed. When Dad was stationed at Terminal Island in Long Beach, California they decided that someday, somehow, they would return.
In 1955 and three children later, Dad built an enclosed wooden storage trailer to haul their few possessions, loaded up the wife and kids in the Chevy (Belair?), and headed out to California with diapers hanging from the windows to dry. They decided to begin their new life in Huntington Beach, about 20 miles south of Long Beach.
Dad was a welder, die cutter, and die bender. His job was in Los Angeles, so he hit the freeway for the long commute sometimes 6 days a week. He got tired of working for someone else, so he eventually got a partner and opened his own cutting die shop, later he bought land and built his own building. He said it was the biggest cutting die shop west of the Mississippi. Even though he was dead tired, he made sure to never neglect his family. He took us everywhere you could imagine on the weekends and never complained about the additional driving. My mother wanted to square dance and round dance, so he somehow fit that into his schedule too.
When my mother died, they had been married 58 years, and it truly was a Love Story.
"When day is done, a figure turns and says a last good-bye. Although we cannot understand where they must go or why. But as they leave our sorrow and our sad tears far behind, they move ahead to seek the peace that every soul must find. For now they sail a different ship upon a different sea – a voyage filled with love and hope and new discovery.
And when the journey brings them to that distant, lighted shore, they'll be greeted by the outstretched arms of those who've gone before.
And people they have known and loved and voices from the past will be singing out the welcome news, that they are home at last!"
_________________________________________
**I want to make a special acknowledgment to James Seidelman for demonstrating his flair for magic in restoring my old washed out photos to their previous glory. Jim, please accept my heartfelt thanks**
_________________________________________
This memorial has be sponsored by "LKat". Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
_________________________________________
My father met my mother when she was 16 years old (he was 25) and knew he wanted to marry her. He started giving part of his paycheck to her so they could save up to start their life together. They married in 1942. Dad joined the Navy and wherever he was stationed, Mom followed. When Dad was stationed at Terminal Island in Long Beach, California they decided that someday, somehow, they would return.
In 1955 and three children later, Dad built an enclosed wooden storage trailer to haul their few possessions, loaded up the wife and kids in the Chevy (Belair?), and headed out to California with diapers hanging from the windows to dry. They decided to begin their new life in Huntington Beach, about 20 miles south of Long Beach.
Dad was a welder, die cutter, and die bender. His job was in Los Angeles, so he hit the freeway for the long commute sometimes 6 days a week. He got tired of working for someone else, so he eventually got a partner and opened his own cutting die shop, later he bought land and built his own building. He said it was the biggest cutting die shop west of the Mississippi. Even though he was dead tired, he made sure to never neglect his family. He took us everywhere you could imagine on the weekends and never complained about the additional driving. My mother wanted to square dance and round dance, so he somehow fit that into his schedule too.
When my mother died, they had been married 58 years, and it truly was a Love Story.
"When day is done, a figure turns and says a last good-bye. Although we cannot understand where they must go or why. But as they leave our sorrow and our sad tears far behind, they move ahead to seek the peace that every soul must find. For now they sail a different ship upon a different sea – a voyage filled with love and hope and new discovery.
And when the journey brings them to that distant, lighted shore, they'll be greeted by the outstretched arms of those who've gone before.
And people they have known and loved and voices from the past will be singing out the welcome news, that they are home at last!"
_________________________________________
**I want to make a special acknowledgment to James Seidelman for demonstrating his flair for magic in restoring my old washed out photos to their previous glory. Jim, please accept my heartfelt thanks**
_________________________________________
This memorial has be sponsored by "LKat". Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
_________________________________________
Dad's earliest childhood memories were of sitting alone for hours on the steps of his apt. while his mother worked. When prodded about how a mother could leave her small child at home alone, he said he thought maybe she paid a next door neighbor woman to watch him, but the neighbor never bothered with him, because he remembers being very lonely. He didn't speak English until he went to school at age 7 because his mother spoke German to him at home. His father was absent during his earliest memories, but around the age of 7 he remembers his mother introducing him to a man that she said was his father. My father pretty much hated this intruder he now must call father. He held him in contempt for leaving his mother and him. He had an older sister who was raised by relatives because his mother couldn't afford to raise two children without the support of a husband. After his father returned to the family, his mother had 5 more children. My father's education ended in the ninth grade. He needed to work to help support the family because in his words, "his father had to buy everybody a round of drinks."
My father met my mother when she was 16 years old (he was 25) and knew he wanted to marry her. He started giving part of his paycheck to her so they could save up to start their life together. They married in 1942. Dad joined the Navy and wherever he was stationed, Mom followed. When Dad was stationed at Terminal Island in Long Beach, California they decided that someday, somehow, they would return.
In 1955 and three children later, Dad built an enclosed wooden storage trailer to haul their few possessions, loaded up the wife and kids in the Chevy (Belair?), and headed out to California with diapers hanging from the windows to dry. They decided to begin their new life in Huntington Beach, about 20 miles south of Long Beach.
Dad was a welder, die cutter, and die bender. His job was in Los Angeles, so he hit the freeway for the long commute sometimes 6 days a week. He got tired of working for someone else, so he eventually got a partner and opened his own cutting die shop, later he bought land and built his own building. He said it was the biggest cutting die shop west of the Mississippi. Even though he was dead tired, he made sure to never neglect his family. He took us everywhere you could imagine on the weekends and never complained about the additional driving. My mother wanted to square dance and round dance, so he somehow fit that into his schedule too.
When my mother died, they had been married 58 years, and it truly was a Love Story.
"When day is done, a figure turns and says a last good-bye. Although we cannot understand where they must go or why. But as they leave our sorrow and our sad tears far behind, they move ahead to seek the peace that every soul must find. For now they sail a different ship upon a different sea – a voyage filled with love and hope and new discovery.
And when the journey brings them to that distant, lighted shore, they'll be greeted by the outstretched arms of those who've gone before.
And people they have known and loved and voices from the past will be singing out the welcome news, that they are home at last!"
_________________________________________
**I want to make a special acknowledgment to James Seidelman for demonstrating his flair for magic in restoring my old washed out photos to their previous glory. Jim, please accept my heartfelt thanks**
_________________________________________
This memorial has be sponsored by "LKat". Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
_________________________________________
My father met my mother when she was 16 years old (he was 25) and knew he wanted to marry her. He started giving part of his paycheck to her so they could save up to start their life together. They married in 1942. Dad joined the Navy and wherever he was stationed, Mom followed. When Dad was stationed at Terminal Island in Long Beach, California they decided that someday, somehow, they would return.
In 1955 and three children later, Dad built an enclosed wooden storage trailer to haul their few possessions, loaded up the wife and kids in the Chevy (Belair?), and headed out to California with diapers hanging from the windows to dry. They decided to begin their new life in Huntington Beach, about 20 miles south of Long Beach.
Dad was a welder, die cutter, and die bender. His job was in Los Angeles, so he hit the freeway for the long commute sometimes 6 days a week. He got tired of working for someone else, so he eventually got a partner and opened his own cutting die shop, later he bought land and built his own building. He said it was the biggest cutting die shop west of the Mississippi. Even though he was dead tired, he made sure to never neglect his family. He took us everywhere you could imagine on the weekends and never complained about the additional driving. My mother wanted to square dance and round dance, so he somehow fit that into his schedule too.
When my mother died, they had been married 58 years, and it truly was a Love Story.
"When day is done, a figure turns and says a last good-bye. Although we cannot understand where they must go or why. But as they leave our sorrow and our sad tears far behind, they move ahead to seek the peace that every soul must find. For now they sail a different ship upon a different sea – a voyage filled with love and hope and new discovery.
And when the journey brings them to that distant, lighted shore, they'll be greeted by the outstretched arms of those who've gone before.
And people they have known and loved and voices from the past will be singing out the welcome news, that they are home at last!"
_________________________________________
**I want to make a special acknowledgment to James Seidelman for demonstrating his flair for magic in restoring my old washed out photos to their previous glory. Jim, please accept my heartfelt thanks**
_________________________________________
This memorial has be sponsored by "LKat". Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
_________________________________________
