Our country was in the midst of the “great depression”. Daddy worked two jobs to support his growing family. My older sisters and brother have fond memories of growing up in Diamondville, and didn’t notice that their plates were filled first and their parents took small portions. Diamondville was a “rough” town with many different ethnic groups. They learned to be tolerant and love people for who they were, no matter what their nationality. The family dog, “Duke”, half German Shepard and half Great Dane, became their constant companion. They walked to the grocery store for bones for the dog, and then took them home so Mom could make broth out of them before the dog chewed on them, for his dinner. Daddy felt that the children were safer when Duke accompanied them. They walked the railroad tracks together, pulling a wagon, picking up coal that had fallen from the rail cars, as the trains left town. Coal served a duel purpose as it simmered the soup bones and warmed the house at the same time.
In December 1936 the family anxiously awaited the birth of another baby, Mom was due to deliver any day when Joel, 2 1/2 years old, came down with a chest cold, that soon turned into pneumonia. Mona arrived December 14, 1936, and Joel felt well enough to reach out and touch her soft baby face, saying “isn’t Mona pretty?” A few days later his breathing became labored and without antibiotics, he died of double pneumonia on December 21, 1936. Mona was a week old and Christmas was four days away. With the help of family and friends the family pushed on, through that long, difficult winter. to be continued. Hugs to All...OWAV:)
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