Another October memory came to me this week: I remembered how I first arrived in Washington.

I entered Central Kitsap High School as a junior when I moved in with my Aunt Emma and her family on Erland’s Point Road in September l946 and I hadn't yet reached my 16th birthday.

I foolishly announced to my aunt that I wanted to get a job and not finish high school until the following year.  Emma would have none of that. In what I thought was a sneaky move she invited about 5 kids in the neighborhood over one afternoon all students at what was then called Silverdale High. She said it was a little welcoming party for her Chicago niece but I knew she was hoping I would decide to go back to school after socializing with some of the kids, all about my age. 

My Auntie Emma was a smart lady.  I was hooked when the first good looking boy crossed the threshold. Of course the girls were nice, too, but at 15 my raging hormones were still, well… raging.

I got teased a lot when I went to school wearing what was popular back in Chicago. My skirt was down to my ankles, the “sloppy Joe” sweater was ‘way down on my hips, saddle shoes were “in” all over the country at the time so my footwear was the only item I wore on the first day that wasn’t subject to the teasing.

The girls in my class wore knee length skirts and I thought they were fashionably retarded.  Soon, however, I was wearing what I decided were clothes that “fit in”. (At least they didn’t dress like the matrons at The Home.)

I was also  teased about my Chicago accent. Some of the guys wanted to know if I was a “Gun Moll” back home and if I knew Al Capone.

I didn’t and said so, but neither did I admit that my stepfather used to drive a truck for Capone.

That first year at CKHS was the best year in school that I’d ever experienced.  After going to three high schools in the Chicago area, one of them twice, I think I was ready to settle down.

Many of the girls in my class became friends. I tried out for the Junior Play and was presented the Drama Award for the year. I also tried out for cheerleader and it was announced that I was given the Yell Queen title. Then the student body held a vote to elect a representative for the Navy Day celebration in Bremerton for the following year, l947.

To my dismay my Aunt and Uncle Ray told me that I would have to go back home to Chicago unless I wanted to move with them to Portland, OR. My world was crashing around me.  I bought my train ticket back to Chicago with a heavy heart.

After a couple of months staying with Mom and Grandma and then my Dad and stepmother, Zylphia, I knew I would somehow get back to Silverdale and finish high school there.

I worked at an insurance company in the Loop, hand writing expiration notices to clients who failed to pay their premiums. Then a letter came from Mr. Huey, the principal at CKHS who said my aunt had been in touch with him and that he knew I wanted to return to finish school in Silverdale.

He had arranged for me to stay with a family that occasionally took in foster children!  I didn’t know the Frank Youngs family but remembered there was a boy a year or two behind me in school with that name.  I then received a letter from Alta, Mrs. Youngs, who encouraged me to come stay with them the coming school year.  I could help her with the housework as payment for my room and board.

I wrote back and accepted her kind offer.  Then she wrote a letter telling me what bus to catch to Silverdale and that it would let me off at Nelson's drug store in town and she would pick me up. 

I scrimped and saved enough money from my meager earnings to buy a few outfits to wear to school and fairly danced my way through the rest of the summer. My prayers had been answered!

This time my father didn't try to persuade me to stay in Chicago. And he promised to be at my graduation the following June.  Well, he came a couple of months earlier because of his work schedule, but that was okay. By the time I graduated from high school I was four months pregnant and planning to marry my high school sweetheart, Rookie so it was better that I told him in a letter.  I also had to ask him to sign a petition giving me permission to marry at age l7.

So 64-1/2 years and five more babies later we are still a couple. I guess it was meant to be.

I love October!