| Biographical Non-Fiction posted June 14, 2020 | Chapters: |
...41 42 -43- 44... 
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Change didn't come easy for the family.
A chapter in the book Remembering Yesterday
Adjusting to the Changes
by BethShelby
| Background After twelve years in Jackson, the move to a new town would involve a new job, new house, new church, new friends and new stresses. |
Since there are those who haven’t read any of this book before, who might read a chapter from time to time, I feel that I need to explain that this isn’t written like a novel. You will find it to be a series of different incidents or memories from a particular time period. You may find the flow of the material may change every paragraph or so. Sometimes I use dialogue to move the story along, but not that often because the whole memoir is being written as though it is spoken aloud to my husband who is deceased.
Since the new company was just getting off the ground, there were no complicated printing jobs. There were six small presses and no Linotype machine for type setting. I would not be doing the kind of stripping I’d been trained to do in Nashville until the company built up its reputation to attract customers needing more expensive jobs. For now, I would be doing simple art work, operating the graphic arts camera, and stripping up negatives for the small presses.
There were two ladies near my age who would be working with me, but not doing the same work as me. Loraine was the typist. She had an advanced typewriter capable of producing type fonts suitable for printing copy. Divorced twice, Loraine, a tall auburn-haired lady, was a character. She was a flirt and used men who were willing to do her bidding. Her hobby was car racing, and she competed in a race for women drivers known as Powder Puff Derby.
Maggie, the other lady, was married and had a four-year-old daughter. She was hired mostly to assist me with filing, ordering the supplies, and burning and developing the small aluminum plates the pressmen needed. Maggie was a tiny lady, who was overly dramatic and fun to be around. I got along fine with both women. Maggie was a club lady and active in the Business and Professional Women Organization. She wanted to get me involved, but it wasn’t my cup of tea.
Wolfgang, the owner of the company, was a man from Germany. I guessed him to be around forty. Stan, the plant supervisor and the man who hired me, appeared to be in his fifties. I was relieved that the work seemed simple compared with my former job. With all the other changes going on in my life, something less challenging was a welcome reprieve.
*****************
We were beginning to settle into our new home. Don had a room of his own, but the girls would continue to share a room. The new highway which ran by our property was finished. Since we were on a large tree-studded lot, the noise from the highway didn’t bother us.
You built a five-foot chain-link fenced dog pen for our German shepherd, Grendel. We bought another male shepherd named Adolph as a companion. We thought we might allow them to breed and try selling registered shepherd puppies.
You found a spot that was perfect for a garden and started breaking up the soil. When you weren’t busy around the house, you would go to our cattle and tree farm and check on that. Another of your projects was to buy twenty young pecan trees and put them out on the farm. That was time consuming work which kept you away from home more than I liked.
Brandon was an interesting little Southern town, only ten miles from Jackson. It had a town square with a courthouse and a 37 ft statue of a Confederate Soldier in the middle of the square. The town is the home of the 1959 Miss America, Mary Ann Mobley, who later starred in some films. When we lived there most of the businesses were scattered around the square. Other than groceries, we continued to do most of our shopping in Jackson.
Your brother and his family still lived in Brandon, but we didn’t know anyone else. The Baptist minister came by and introduced himself . He seemed very nice and invited us to join his church. We explained we would probably continue going to the church we’d joined in Jackson since our children were doing great in the church-school there, and were involved in an organization similar to scouts, called Pathfinders.
Our new house wasn't far from the main section of the little town, but our location had a country atmosphere. Houses were scattered and on acreage. Across the street from us was an open field and dirt road leading back to a small pond. The land was not fenced, so we decided to walk over and explore. We met the landowner who welcomed us to the area and told us to feel free to fish in his pond. The children had never been fishing, so you fixed them up some lines, and we went over. It didn’t take long for Don and Christi to get their lines tangled and tire of fishing, but Carol found an old box and pulled it near the pond and dipped her line in the water. The box collapsed sending her tumbling into the muddy water. This ended our little fishing excursion for the day.
The move had been stressful for all of us. Since we had to drive the extra distance into the city to work and to take the children to school, we decided to ride together rather then take separate vehicles. You had recently sold our Chevrolet and bought a two-year-old Ford from someone you worked with. We also still had your truck, but we usually took the Ford sedan.
First we would drop the children off at school, and then I’d drop you at work and park the car at my work. If we timed it right, everyone got where they were supposed to be on time. I was punching a time-clock at my new job and Stan, the supervisor, had a problem with anyone who punched in late. In didn't matter that I was willing to stay later and get in my eight hours, I could tell that he couldn't handle people not being there on the dot of eight.
I am a person who has serious issues with being late for anything. You were a careful person, who spent a lot more time than I on your personal appearance, and you were more likely to get hung up on something causing you to run late. I was always ready and in the car with the kids, waiting for you to join us. Sometimes, you would realize you were going to be running late, and you would tell me to go on ahead and you’d take your truck.
This had happened several times in the last couple of weeks, but on this particular morning, we were planning to ride together. The children and I had been sitting in the car for at least fifteen minutes waiting on you, and I was getting more irritated by the moment. I honked the car horn several times. We were already so late that I hoped you would drop me off first, so I wouldn’t be scolded again for punching in late. Eventually, you stuck your head out the door, and told me to go on, and you’d take your truck.
Something snapped in my brain. We had a long tree-lined curved drive, and it was necessary to back up a long way, before you could turn and go forward. In a fit of frustration and anger, I floor-boarded the accelerator with the car in reverse. I crashed the car into a young pine tree and knocked it down, crumpling the trunk in all the way to the back seat. Our three children and their books and lunchboxes went flying in every direction. No one was hurt, but I had totaled our car. We both had to call our work saying something had come up and we would be late.
As as rule, I’m a very laid-back, easy-going person. I seldom lose my temper. I don’t know why I snapped that time, but I calmed down quickly. You yelled at me but not for long. I think you realized you were the cause of my temper tantrum. We could laugh about it later, but at that moment, we didn’t need the aggravation of having to deal with our insurance company, and having to look for another car.
After that incident, my children weren’t anxious to get into the car with me driving. It didn’t help that a few weeks later, I had a tire blow-out on the highway while driving again with the children. There was a noise which sounded like an explosion. The car spun in a complete circle and crossed over into the on-coming traffic lane. Thankfully, no cars were approaching at that moment, and I did manage to gain control and pull off to the side. The interstate was something we’d not had to deal with at our old house. Some of the changes in our lives were welcome. Others would take some time for us to adjust to them.
Since the new company was just getting off the ground, there were no complicated printing jobs. There were six small presses and no Linotype machine for type setting. I would not be doing the kind of stripping I’d been trained to do in Nashville until the company built up its reputation to attract customers needing more expensive jobs. For now, I would be doing simple art work, operating the graphic arts camera, and stripping up negatives for the small presses.
There were two ladies near my age who would be working with me, but not doing the same work as me. Loraine was the typist. She had an advanced typewriter capable of producing type fonts suitable for printing copy. Divorced twice, Loraine, a tall auburn-haired lady, was a character. She was a flirt and used men who were willing to do her bidding. Her hobby was car racing, and she competed in a race for women drivers known as Powder Puff Derby.
Maggie, the other lady, was married and had a four-year-old daughter. She was hired mostly to assist me with filing, ordering the supplies, and burning and developing the small aluminum plates the pressmen needed. Maggie was a tiny lady, who was overly dramatic and fun to be around. I got along fine with both women. Maggie was a club lady and active in the Business and Professional Women Organization. She wanted to get me involved, but it wasn’t my cup of tea.
Wolfgang, the owner of the company, was a man from Germany. I guessed him to be around forty. Stan, the plant supervisor and the man who hired me, appeared to be in his fifties. I was relieved that the work seemed simple compared with my former job. With all the other changes going on in my life, something less challenging was a welcome reprieve.
*****************
We were beginning to settle into our new home. Don had a room of his own, but the girls would continue to share a room. The new highway which ran by our property was finished. Since we were on a large tree-studded lot, the noise from the highway didn’t bother us.
You built a five-foot chain-link fenced dog pen for our German shepherd, Grendel. We bought another male shepherd named Adolph as a companion. We thought we might allow them to breed and try selling registered shepherd puppies.
You found a spot that was perfect for a garden and started breaking up the soil. When you weren’t busy around the house, you would go to our cattle and tree farm and check on that. Another of your projects was to buy twenty young pecan trees and put them out on the farm. That was time consuming work which kept you away from home more than I liked.
Brandon was an interesting little Southern town, only ten miles from Jackson. It had a town square with a courthouse and a 37 ft statue of a Confederate Soldier in the middle of the square. The town is the home of the 1959 Miss America, Mary Ann Mobley, who later starred in some films. When we lived there most of the businesses were scattered around the square. Other than groceries, we continued to do most of our shopping in Jackson.
Your brother and his family still lived in Brandon, but we didn’t know anyone else. The Baptist minister came by and introduced himself . He seemed very nice and invited us to join his church. We explained we would probably continue going to the church we’d joined in Jackson since our children were doing great in the church-school there, and were involved in an organization similar to scouts, called Pathfinders.
Our new house wasn't far from the main section of the little town, but our location had a country atmosphere. Houses were scattered and on acreage. Across the street from us was an open field and dirt road leading back to a small pond. The land was not fenced, so we decided to walk over and explore. We met the landowner who welcomed us to the area and told us to feel free to fish in his pond. The children had never been fishing, so you fixed them up some lines, and we went over. It didn’t take long for Don and Christi to get their lines tangled and tire of fishing, but Carol found an old box and pulled it near the pond and dipped her line in the water. The box collapsed sending her tumbling into the muddy water. This ended our little fishing excursion for the day.
The move had been stressful for all of us. Since we had to drive the extra distance into the city to work and to take the children to school, we decided to ride together rather then take separate vehicles. You had recently sold our Chevrolet and bought a two-year-old Ford from someone you worked with. We also still had your truck, but we usually took the Ford sedan.
First we would drop the children off at school, and then I’d drop you at work and park the car at my work. If we timed it right, everyone got where they were supposed to be on time. I was punching a time-clock at my new job and Stan, the supervisor, had a problem with anyone who punched in late. In didn't matter that I was willing to stay later and get in my eight hours, I could tell that he couldn't handle people not being there on the dot of eight.
I am a person who has serious issues with being late for anything. You were a careful person, who spent a lot more time than I on your personal appearance, and you were more likely to get hung up on something causing you to run late. I was always ready and in the car with the kids, waiting for you to join us. Sometimes, you would realize you were going to be running late, and you would tell me to go on ahead and you’d take your truck.
This had happened several times in the last couple of weeks, but on this particular morning, we were planning to ride together. The children and I had been sitting in the car for at least fifteen minutes waiting on you, and I was getting more irritated by the moment. I honked the car horn several times. We were already so late that I hoped you would drop me off first, so I wouldn’t be scolded again for punching in late. Eventually, you stuck your head out the door, and told me to go on, and you’d take your truck.
Something snapped in my brain. We had a long tree-lined curved drive, and it was necessary to back up a long way, before you could turn and go forward. In a fit of frustration and anger, I floor-boarded the accelerator with the car in reverse. I crashed the car into a young pine tree and knocked it down, crumpling the trunk in all the way to the back seat. Our three children and their books and lunchboxes went flying in every direction. No one was hurt, but I had totaled our car. We both had to call our work saying something had come up and we would be late.
As as rule, I’m a very laid-back, easy-going person. I seldom lose my temper. I don’t know why I snapped that time, but I calmed down quickly. You yelled at me but not for long. I think you realized you were the cause of my temper tantrum. We could laugh about it later, but at that moment, we didn’t need the aggravation of having to deal with our insurance company, and having to look for another car.
After that incident, my children weren’t anxious to get into the car with me driving. It didn’t help that a few weeks later, I had a tire blow-out on the highway while driving again with the children. There was a noise which sounded like an explosion. The car spun in a complete circle and crossed over into the on-coming traffic lane. Thankfully, no cars were approaching at that moment, and I did manage to gain control and pull off to the side. The interstate was something we’d not had to deal with at our old house. Some of the changes in our lives were welcome. Others would take some time for us to adjust to them.
I'm continuing to recall memories of life with my deceased husband as if I am talking aloud to him. I'm doing this because I want my children to know us as we knew each other and not just as their parents
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