Grandmom Hugar: A Renaissance Woman

"I see Grandmom's house!" One of us kids would scream loudly from the 1954 Cadillac sedan driven by my Dad, a Pennsylvania State Trooper, with Mom and six kids in tow. The youngest, Pam, was sitting on the arm rest dividing the back seat. Lisa and Mary Kay were seated on one side of her and Barb was on the other side. Chris and I sat up front between Mom and Dad, at least some of the time. Dad would be puffing on a Pall Mall cigarette with his side window cracked open. Mom was pregnant with her 7th child. My sister Lisa would always have her nose buried in the crack of the back seat and get car sick. (It was a regular occurrence, so you can understand why I made a point to sit up front.) Us older kids would be sitting at the edge of our seats, trying to see Grandmom's house first. The first one to see it would win. Win What? Nothing. Just that contest for that period of time. The sentence was always sung, however. "I see Grand" was sung on G and "Mom's House" was sung on lower C. We always made up songs about any and everything. The songs would just arise spontaneously. If we all liked it, we kept singing it. If we didn't all like it, we would keep quiet. I think Mom and Dad preferred the silence but they were too kind to tell us to shut up. Chris, nine times out of ten, would sing it out first, as he did on this particular trip. We could see the house about five miles away, as it stood on a hill, overlooking a valley, all land owned by Grandmom. As we followed the country road into Keewadin, we would talk excitedly about Grandmom. (Grandpop had died a few years earlier and none of us kids knew him much at all. We just knew that he died of a heart attack at a Grange Hall meeting.)

Grandmom Hugar, however, we grew to know very well and utterly cherished her. She would always be waiting for us with a huge smile and big bear hugs, as she called them.(We figured she knew what bear hugs were all about. On the sunporch was a huge black bear rug Grandpop had made many years ago, from the 10 foot black bear he had shot.) She would often be taking a cherry cobbler out of the oven as we were walking into her house. If it was cold, she would ask Chris or me to go throw some coal into the coal furnace in the basement. We would sit at her table and eat cherry cobbler and biscuits and honey and homemade lemonade. I recall her house to be one of the most warm and welcoming places of my entire life. All because of Grandmom being Grandmom. To this day, one of the greatest compliments we grown children can get (girls!) is "You're just like Grandmom Hugar!" (Usually this is said if we are so determined to do something, we do it, come hell or high water!)

Her name was Jeannette. She always thought herself to be a large homely woman. She would say that many times to me, and I would say,"So what's the matter with being homely? Doesn't that mean you like to stay at home and make pies and cook and make jelly?" She would laugh and say, "I never thought of it that way." I also told her it was good she was tall and strong because my Dad was a policeman, and HE needed to be big and strong. I told her Grandpop looked like a runt next to her in pictures of them together. She got quite a kick out of that too. She told me that my initials and birthday were the same as Grandpop's. JCH, and October 6. So, you were named after him, in a way she said. Grandmom WAS a big woman, six feet tall with gentle brown eyes and a ready, beautiful smile. When she said how ugly she was to us kids, this would always sadden us, and we told her to never ever say that again because she was as beautiful as a fairy godmother to us. When we look at her pictures now, we see a very humble, plain looking woman with well worn hands and a smile that brought instant joy and peace to everyone she encountered. A Renaissance Woman, majestic in every way.

She was a voracious reader and a perpetual learner. She taught herself to drive after Grandpop died, and was frustrated about parking her Packard in the garage. She was so determined she somehow managed to get the Packard in sideways!(much to the chagrin of her grown sons who had to right the wrong, without tearing down the garage.) She was a very determined woman who, once she set her mind to do something, did it well, or not at all. (Except parking and driving the car, as these inabilities plagued her the rest of her life, as she would drive a mile down the country road to visit the grave of Grandpop.) Grandmom made her own rugs and had a rug weaving machine upstairs. She would use old rags to make rugs. She canned all her fruits and vegetables, made her own bread, and even had her own apiary. Her honey was the best. To this day, one of my fondest memories are of her homemade biscuits with butter and honey fresh from the comb. She also oil painted and made dough sculptures of her beloved parakeets. She always had a bird around the house, and she would let it out of its cage to amuse us kids. We all shrieked with delight as the bird would dive bomb us. Grandmom had a real connection with her grandchildren. She saw kids as kids, and gave us the freedom to be spontaneous and cut loose. She would connect with us in such a way that we knew she was really a kid at heart herself.

But Grandmom had a very serious side. She would often sit in her rocker and read from her Bible. She was not Catholic. She was a Lutheran. Year ago, she and her whole family were Catholic. But when the depression came and they had no money, they could not pay their "pew rent" and were asked to leave the church. They immediately joined the Lutheran church down the road. One day as she was reading from her Bible, she showed me her Sunday School lessons, and I read them avidly, lying on her bearskin rug, as the sun streamed in through the windows. When I got a little tired, I would rest my head on the bear's head. After all, he was dead, and actually the rug was quite warm and snuggly. I loved to read those Sunday School lessons. My Mom would tell me in private not to read them, as it was Protestant reading material. Of course, then, it became all the more fascinating to me. Nothing like being told to refrain from something, as it more often then not, becomes all the more beguiling. I could see nothing wrong at all with the lessons and utterly loved reading them. Grandmom told me she would save them for me but she did not want to upset my Mom.

Grandmom also had a huge library. She had a ton of medical books and I would sit behind her reading chair and read the medical books from cover to cover. She also had leather bound books of all the classics. She told me that books were her best friends, tried and true, and were always a pleasure to be around. Grandmom saw how much I loved to read, particularly the medical books, so she told me I could take them home with me. She said I was smart enough to be a doctor some day, so start studying now while I was a kid. Unfortunately, I often imagined I had every disease I read about and would develop symptoms of "non tropical sprue" or think I may have gotten venereal disease from a toilet at a gas station.

milk money, penny candy, a nickel bag and donuts

Kindergarten was going quite nicely. Operative word" Going. I couldn't, for the life of me, know what I was learning. It just seemed like we cut and pasted and ate a whole lot of white paste! No wonder Mom told me I looked a bit pasty. I asked her how she knew? "Knew about what?" she asked. "Knew about me eating paste!" "What?" "You eat white paste?" "Sure Mom" "Everyone does!" "If everyone jumped off a cliff would you?" Just then Chris calls out from the living room: "If I was a lemming, I probably would." Chris was an avid reader and knew about everything. "Chris, we will talk about that later" said Mom. Back to me, she demanded I never eat paste again. I told her "But I loooove it!" She said : "Absolutely not!" "I raised you for better things than eating white paste!" So, on that note, I went to school with a chip on my shoulder. When Sissy asked if I had any money, so we could spend it on penny candy. I said as a matter of fact, I do! And I showed her my milk money. Her eyes about popped out of her head. "Gosh Julie, do you know what we can get with that?" She proceeded to regal me with tales of watermelon slices, gumdrops,pixie stix,soft chewy red coin money, root beer barrels and Klein lunch bars. As I started to drool, off we went to the little corner dairy store. It smelled like ancient kitty litter. I breathed through my mouth, as I always did when I went there. A huge cat strolled over to me and started to entwine its legs around my ankles. I shook it off with fright and it deftly leaped to the top of the candy counter. So that's what all those tiny paw prints are about, I mused. I asked for a nickel bag of candy and specified what I wanted. Sissy yelled out, "Make that a double!" "A nickel bag and make that a double!" Should have been an omen of trouble over the horizon...We ran out of the store with our treasures. Sissy suggested that we walk around the block enough times so we could eat all of our candy and have it out of our teeth before getting home, I agreed that would be the prudent thing to do. After all, at OUR house, we had our rules. If anyone brought candy into the house, there had to be enough to share with everyone. Nuthin' doing, I thought to myself. It was my milk money, hence, it is my candy. I may be nice, but I am not THAT nice. Besides, I shared with Sissy. We ate our entire bag of candy, except two root beer barrels I had for my sisters. Sissy said she wanted donuts for dessert, and said we could run to Limbers Bakery and get ten for ten. Boy, I sure was glad Sissy was my friend as she sure knew what to say and do out in public. She held her hand out to me to get the money. Oh yeah, it was my treat. We got the donuts and crammed one into our mouths before we left the door.We had two down in a few steps. After three, I looked at Sissy and told her I wasn't feeling very well. She assured that I would get over it. She said just to walk real fast and we would wear it off. I suggested that we use our "propellers" and run. (our arms whirling like helicopters) So we ran with our arms out in front of us like propellers. The rest of the donuts fell out of the bag and rolled down the street. "Oh poop!" I yelled out loud. Sissy looked at me like I was a Martian and said, "Oh Shit!" I started to cry and she said she was sorry for teaching me bad words, and said we better get home quick or Mom would call Big Lee, my Dad who was a State Police Trooper, to come look for us.

Sure enough, we got home late. I wondered how I could get out of what I knew was coming. After all, I spent my milk money on candy, crossed busy Liberty street without Mom or Dad, and got home late from school. Mom looked very worried when I walked in. But just at that moment, Barb started to choke on her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Mom whacked her hard on the back and half a sandwich flew out of her mouth. I was surprised that Barb coughed up ANY sandwich, as she would usually throw her sandwiches, bit by bit, behind the refrigerator. She would GAG on her sandwiches if they were made of Wonder Bread. You know, the kind that helps to build strong bodies twelve ways. I suppose it would, should one actually EAT the stuff. I wonder why she would gag... The bread was only about a week old by the time we ate it as Dad would always buy the bread from the Thrift Bakery. I would always toast mine, so it didn't matter. I called it "Toasted Peanut Butter" and that's what I asked for as I nonchalantly sat down at the table and winked at Barb, showing her a root beer barrel I saved for her. Mary Kay looked at me with admiring eyes, like I was her hero. I guess I was for that shining moment and I savored that along with my lunch.

My Fifth Birthday: Red Velvet Hat, Round Black Purse and a Nun Doll

The first month of school went by fast. Soon, it was October, my favorite month of the year, as it was my birthday month. Soon the hallowed day appeared. It was on a school day. Mom woke me with a kiss and a promise that we would have a party after supper. My Mom made me cupcakes to bring in. Sissy helped carry them. I recall thinking how stupid it was that the Birthday Boy or Girl had to bring in the treat, but that's the way it was. Everyone made a fuss over me. At snack time, I passed out my cupcakes proudly. Mom made some nice cupcakes and filled the wrappers high with cake and icing. They were not store bought nor did they taste like smoke like when Sally's mom made cupcakes. After I sat down, I was presented with the grievously coveted PIXIE CAKE, a tiny two layer cake of chocolate cake with white icing, about three inches across and two inches high. There were five candles on it. I blew out the lit candles and took each one out, one by one, and licked the cake and icing off. Other kids wanted to put them back into the cake to get a taste too. I found no reason why my friends should be denied this simple pleasure. Five more kids poked into the cake to get a taste. Mrs. Hostetter finally intervened and said that that was enough, as there would be no cake left for the birthday girl.

I took the cake home with me and bragged to my sisters about how I got a birthday cake at school. I offered them all a bite and my Mom looked at the cake with a nervous eye. She said to put the cake over on the counter which was right above an open garbage can. It seemed to have disappeared when I looked for it later. Mom made me a huge double layer white cake with coconut icing and red and yellow flowers she made with a special icing gun. I soon forgot about the pixie cake. I opened a package from my Grandmom Hugar who sent me a red velvet hat. I loved it and wore it every day for a month. I also get a round black patin leather purse with a mirror inside from Nannie, my Mother's mom. I was named after her.My parents got me a nun doll, that when you moved the legs to walk, the head went from side to side, just like the real nuns do, and they never miss a thing going on in a classroom. She was wearing lime green underpants. I recall thinking how nice the underwear was, because the dress she wore sure was ugly. She also had a very large bib. I thought that was because nuns must be sloppy eaters. The nun doll was ok for a day, but I couldn't play with her. Her dress was stapled on her. No wonder nuns were crabby and mean.

chocolate milk, lorna dunes and an order of white paste on the side

Snack time was probably the reason I continued to go to school every day. Chocolate milk and lorna dunes! We never had either at home. My Mother was ahead of her time as she did not give us sugary snacks. How I loved chocolate milk! It was so thick and creamy! I took a couple long drags with my straw and hurried over to the sink with Robbie, Petey and Nellie. I said, "You go first" as I wanted to savor the moment. The sink was a large white utility sink at our level. Robbie poured her milk all over the bottom of the sink, on the sides and rims of the sink. I liked the way the brown creamy color contrasted with the white and how it streaked here and there, and then, with a huge blast, the faucet washed it clean. We all clapped and laughed excitedly. Where Mrs. Hostetter was at this time, I don't know. Probably in the bathroom after the kid flushing theirs down the toilet.

Our joy was rudely interrupted by Mrs. Hostetter's shouting for everyone to sit down. She then said to bring our chairs over to the center of the room and form a large circle. We all hopped on our chairs and rode them like horses as fast as we could to get to the center of the room. We did like as if in a trance like humans did in the movie, "Time Machine", when the siren blasted its mournful summons. No one wanted to be left outside the circle. If you were the last one there, and the circle closed in, you had to sit on Mrs. Hostetter's lap. As I recall, her breath smelled like our garbage cans did at home. I made it to the circle just in the nick of time. Robbie, poor thing, did not. Mrs. Hostetter told Robbie she was not fast enough, as her large arms swooped down like a hawk and picked her up, high over the heads of the other seated children. She sat down on her chair triumphantly and held Robbie tight. Robbie was all red in the face as her classmates viewed her piteously, much as one would view a mouse in the mouth of a cat. Mrs. Hostetter announced that today's circle game would be "Button Button, Who"s Got The Button?" This game consisted of a button of course. One child would have the button inside their two pressed palms and would go one by one in front of each child. With their hands pressed in a prayer position, the child with the button would insert their hands into the clasped hands of another child, leaving the button with someone else. No one could actually see who received the button, but you could usually tell by the kid's expression on their face. No poker faces here! If you got the button, you would get up immediately and chase the other child
around the circle and get to your seat before they did. Kids always picked their friends, so if Matty got the button you could be sure as poop that Davey would get it. But we would all feign surprise. One day, Robbie got sick of Mattie and Davey always being the buttoner and buttonee so she would put out her foot "accidentally" and Davey went flying across the hardwood floor. Robbie was put in the broom closet for that offense. When she came out, she smelled like the janitor.

First Day of School: September, 1956

I just got my hair washed, with Breck Shampoo. I felt like a Breck girl should. I walked with a stride that allowed my hair to sway back and forth over my shoulders. My head was turning from side to side, much like my nun doll did. But that is another story.

I put on my new blouse, skirt and grabbed my pink dog head umbrella that played "Rain, rain go away, come again some other day." My, that song gets old, over and over again. So when the music box quit playing,I did not wind it up again, as I bounded off the front porch, narrowly missing a juicy mud puddle. Mom said the clouds were crying whenever it rained. So, the clouds were sobbing their hearts out on that first day of school when I was all of four years old, going to kindergarten. Sissy up the street was walking the several blocks to school with me. She greeted me with a loud cry of Juleeeeeeee! Mom went back in the house, a baby on her hip. Mary Kay and Barb peered out through the front window, still in their pjs. Chris was already at school up the street, at St. Patrick School. Sissy told me all about my teacher, Mrs. Hostetter. I was ready to run home after hearing a few tidbits, but knew I could not. I was trapped, just like that mouse that dad caught in the basement yesterday. I guess Mrs. Hostetter must be the cat in this scenario and I started to cry. "Whatzamatter?" "Oh Nuthin!" I muttered.

She walked me to my classroom. It smelled like varnish, new books, crayons and new paint. A mixture of smells that makes me queasy to this day. I was beginning to feel queasy in my stomach. My Malt-o-meal was not sitting well with me, nor was my Ovaltine. Much to my relief, I spotted my next door neighbor Robbie. My nose was running, as I recall. I hate when that happens! Robbie invited me to smell her hair,noting she just got it washed with Breck.(We must not have washed our hair that often as it seemed to be a hallowed event when we did.) I didn't have a kleenex, so I just sort of wiped my nose with my rough sweater cuff. Robbie said, "C'mon! Hurry up!" So, I smelled her hair and got some snot in it. I looked at her sheepishly and she said, "Well, what's the matter?" and I said "Oh nuthin !"

Right about then,Mrs. Hostetter was clapping her hands and telling us all to sit down at one of the round tables with chairs. Robbie and I sat together. After everyone was seated, she called out our names. She said we had to sit in alphabetical order. I wondered what THAT was. I soon found out when Robbie and I were separated. I was soon sitting at a table with other "H's" and I liked none of them.

The first order of the day was to draw owls and cut them out of brown paper bags. Then, we were to cut out yellow circles for the eyes and paste them on the owls. I was in big trouble as I could not cut out circles. I have hidden that ability from everyone until now. I hadn't learned how to turn the paper as I cut. The whole class was done with their owls and all shouting "Hoot hoot" at one another. I started to howl. Mrs. Hostetter walked over to me and said, "Whatzamatter?" I said, "Oh nuthin". "My eyes are just watery today." She read between the lines and cut out my owl eyes. Soon, I was hooting and hollering with the best of them. The first day of school became a collage of crying. laughing, eating white paste (yummy!) flushing our chocolate milk down the toilet and laughing and watching my ps and qs so I wouldn't get in trouble with good old Mrs. Hostetter.