Gladys
Quinn
Small Early
Memories
The
farmhouse in 1907
with
Caroline Braden, Maud
Braden
Quinn, Gladys, 2, and
Henry
Quinn.
(From a
written account by Gladys Quinn Small in the 1990s and a video
interview
made by her granddaughter Sarah Sims Erwin in August 1993).
Transcribed
and lightly edited by Marilyn Small Erwin, Gladys' daughter.
Please
forgive typos and repetitions.)
I am
Gladys Mary Frances Quinn Small. I was born
Henry Elvas
Alvin Quinn at home in
in those
days it was
a friend
who took care of my Mother; Mary was for my
Father's
mother Mary Riegel, and
Mother's
mother Caroline Frances Thomas Braden. I lived
in the
farmhouse that my grandfather James A. Braden built
around
1880 with my Mother and Father and Grandmother
Braden.
We had
such a nice grove of trees in front that you
could
hardly see the house from the road. My grandmother
had a nice
fence with a gate in it for people to come in. My
grandfather
James A. Braden was a deacon in the Bethel Creek Primitive
Baptist
church and on Saturdays and Sundays, wagonloads
of people
would park their wagons in front of the house in
the grove,
tie up their horses (we had a well there for water),
and have
their meals with my grandparents.
The
farmhouse was built of new “green” wood (oak)
cut from
the surrounding forests. A sawmill was brought in
and the
logs were cut into boards right on the spot. The barn
was built
at the same time.
My Father
first went to work in the telephone business
in
Mother. He
drove his horse and buggy over to date her. She
was the
youngest of 11 children.
My
Grandmother Braden died in this house and my
Grandfather
too. He died of typhoid fever. My Grandmother
died
several years later. She lived with my Father and
Mother
till she died. It was customary that the youngest child
takes care
of the mother.
Life on
the farm was lonely for an only child. I had
two
cousins across the road for 13 years. They, Bessie and
Homer
Jones, were the children of Bill and Elvira Jones.
Aunt
Elvira was one of Mother Maud's sisters; Uncle Bill was
a brother
of Glen Jones' father John Jones.
Maud
Braden Quinn
Gladys 1910
I remember
many events. My parents started me on
piano at
age 6. I remember the first big upright piano. We
had a
stool to sit on for many years. Finally, the salesperson
brought
out a bench. We used it as a coffee table in
When I was
3 or 4, there were not many children in
the
neighborhood. I visited the other farms in the area with
my little
wagon with my toys… a teddy bear and dolls, and a
dog and
cat that would follow along to see the neighbors. I
had a
cousin across the road that played jazz on the piano. I
would stop
there and listen to her play.
My music
lessons were taken in
Mr. Ed
Mitchell on Wednesdays and Saturdays usually at 2
o'clock. I
liked him. He had a talking parrot, loved roses, and
had lots
of beautiful flowers. I don't remember when I started
driving a
horse and buggy to
The horses
were Charley and Daisey.
Uncle Jim
(Dad's help) lived in a log house northwest
of the
house. His wife Mary, a kind person, had big living
room that
served as bedroom with two double beds and a
huge
fireplace and an upstairs. Uncle Jim was wonderful to
me. I
followed him everyplace, they tell me. He always got
my horse
and buggy ready to go for my music lessons. Dad
gave me
the nickname Jim from Uncle Jim. On cold, chilly
rainy
days, Uncle Jim would take me to Muggin Country one
room
school with one teacher for all grades. He also called
for me at
4 o'clock.
In those
days we had wood stoves. My parents would
have
friends over in the evening to play cards and have
popcorn.
They were usually my cousins that lived nearby,
and they
would stay over night and I loved that. My parents
never
worked on Sundays. We were not religious people
but they
enjoyed the day off. When we went to church it was
to the
primitive Baptist church and there's a cemetery there
where many
of my relatives are buried.
On Sunday,
I usually went to visit girlfriends. They tell
many
stories of my playing with their toys, which I enjoyed
much more
than my own. My folks took me many places in
the
neighborhood. I have a memory of going to one of our
neighbors
who had a little log house that had a big fireplace,
and I
enjoyed seeing the big fireplace and all the kettles. I
would go
in the afternoon with my dog. He wasn't on a leash;
he'd just
follow along. He was a beautiful white dog. When
the
mulberries were ripe, I'd climb the tree, sit on a limb, and
pick my
mulberries. Usually there were so many birds that
would keep
squalking and sometimes get very near to me
because I
was picking the best berries.
During
cold wintry days Dad took me on horseback on
his
favorite pacer called Red. I got so I could ride her alone.
If Dad
needed to meet and go to work in another town, he
would ride
one of the horses, tie reins to saddle, turn them
around and
they would come back home. The farm had lots
of
animals, female horses, stud, hogs - male hogs, cows and
bull,
geese, ducks, turkeys, chickens, guinea hens, roosted
on top of
barn. If they heard or saw something unusual,
they would
squawk and make a noise in the middle of the
night. The
farmers liked to keep them for watch. They were
eatable,
had to be shot as other birds.
Aunt Mary
and
part of my
childhood. There were no children my age out
here. The
Lanes had a black mulberry tree in their backyard.
When they
go ripe (black) in June or July, I would go climb
up in the
tree and eat the berries. Frequently, the anxious
birds
would bother me. I always took a medium size red
wagon,
with my favorite dolls, stuffed animals, and bear.
The white
bulldog followed me to every house. I visited
three
houses at least once a week — the Lanes, Aunt
Elvira,
Bessie (played jazz well), Homer and Uncle Bill if he
was around
and the farmer tenant that lived in a log cabin.
Sometimes
a family rented the five-room log cabin place. I
didn't
seem to get to know any of them very well. They didn't
seem to
want to play with the toys that I had.
My first
spanking, which I still remember, was at
haying
time. My Father had two or three men helping him
plus my
Mother. They would bring the hay to the barn, which
had a
pitchfork. My dad would load the pitchfork and my
Mother
would drive the horse to lift the pitchfork up into the
barn.
Someone in the barn would tell them when to drop the
hay in the
loft on the top floor of the barn where it was stored
for the
winter. They were very busy, and I was very impatient
but I took
my dog and my toys and wanted the tongue of my
wagon to
be extended to be much longer. I had my piece
of wood
and my nails, and my wire. I was very impatient at
the gate
and my Father came out to spank me for being so
impatient
and told me to go back home and I went with my
animals
and the dog following me. We never discussed it
afterward.
I knew not to push too hard the next time.
There were
many young men in this area that were
drafted
for World War I. Dad was always able to get help with
harvesting
or haying time. Labor was $1 to $3 per day. We
had to
feed them a big meal at noontime. Uncle Homer was
one of
them. He worked for Dad at busy times.
Where did
we get our clothing? Mother Maud made
our
everyday clothing as work clothes. She did not like
sewing.
Our good dresses were made by a dressmaker
north of
us in
long
jacket suit with fur for Mother. She made pretty piano
recital
dresses for me. Dad's suits, maybe one or two in his
lifetime,
were gotten a Burnett's clothing store in Eldorado.
I am sure
some of our clothing came from Sears Roebuck
&
usually
yard goods to be used for underwear. The underwear
pants,
vest, bras, slips were all made by hand. The material
was
unbleached muslin. We women and girls all had fancy
camisole,
loose fitting, with lace — some were used as
pants.
Ruffles and lace for blouses worn with long full skirts,
I don't
know about winter coats. I know we all had long
underwear.
were mud
for a wagon and horses. We never went to town in
a wagon
because it was not to be done especially if you had
a horse
and buggy. At one time it had a bank, drug store,
two or
three general stores, two or more ice cream parlors,
doctors'
offices, hardware store, and blacksmith shop where
the horses
had metal shoes put on their hooves. There was
a
millinery shop where we bought hour hats, ribbon, flowers,
etc. She
was a friendly lady and always tried to please me.
Her
husband was the druggist. Mother Maud always kept me
dressed in
my best. I was a tomboy at heart, not all feminine.
I remember
my Father carrying me from my bed to my
cousin's
home to the storm cellar if a storm was coming. We
were all
afraid. Dad would carry me, maybe at
wait the
storm out. That was an experience I well remember.
The house
was located in a grove of trees. I
remember
playing under the trees in the grove with my dolls.
We always
had homemade ice cream on Saturday evenings.
My
grandmother lived with us. We enjoyed having her with
us and she
was a big help. I was with her a lot as a baby.
Around six
years old, my parents bought a large
upright
piano. It was quite an occasion when a family bought
a piano.
Shortly after that I started taking piano lessons. I
enjoyed it
a lot. I never enjoyed performing, but just knowing
something
about the music. My teacher insisted that I
subscribe
to “Etude” and “Musician” magazines so I
could
learn more
about the history of the music because I was an
avid
reader.
I took
music lessons (in
twice a
week on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons.
I went by
myself on Wednesdays. I drove the horse and
buggy. My
Father would always be busy at being a brick
mason
doing public work so he had a helper in Uncle Jim
Lane (he
had a long beard and cut his hair once a year).
I got my
nickname from him because I followed him every
place. He
helped me with the horse and buggy. Charlie was
the horse
I used with the buggy. They were breeding animals
and we
always had little colts.
I'd go
along the country dusty road to my music
lesson. We
didn't have gravel or paved roads. I hitched the
horse to
the hitching post near the music teacher's home
and go in
and take my music lesson. I had a little purse I
always
carried and my parents would give me ten pennies
and I'd
stop in the general store and get a long piece of
chewing
gum, and then I'd stop at the ice cream parlor and
sit at one
of the round tables with the ice cream chairs. Then
I'd finish
that and go get my horse and chew my gum and eat
my candy..
My Father,
Henry, worked six days a week. I don't
think he
worked on Sunday. We usually went to church,
had
company, or went to visit friends. As long as my Mother
Maud
lived, we went to Bethel Creek because all the sisters
had joined
there. Grandfather James Braden was a deacon
in the
— many
that are buried there are relatives. My Mother
Maud
joined the church on her deathbed with no baptism or
immersed
in pond.
Dad Henry
went to the fields or public work to town
to work on
a house, chimneys, anything that needed to be
done in
using brick and mortar or concrete. In those days
they mixed
their own and needed men to help called “hod
carriers.”
Most farm
people were up by
horses,
milked the cows. My Mother would fix my Father's
dinner
pail and he'd be off to do public work. Uncle Jim was
here by
The
farming was done on weekends and early mornings and
evenings
before dark. My Mother helped with the farming
and worked
alongside my Father. They loved each other
so much.
She did a lot of the farm work and they got along
beautifully.
They were frugal people and it was very difficult
making a
living. It was normal for women to help with the
farming.
Any time you're
on the farm there's always something
to be
done. If there's a garden you have to tend it, if you
have a
flower garden yard or house you have to keep that
going too.
Now we have our cars and we can go to the store.
The Braden
and Quinn families were probably mostly
laborers.
Of my Father's Quinn brothers…one was a depot
master,
one was a brick mason, my grandfather was a coal
miner, and
the Bradens had 10 girls…one was a seamstress
and Aunt
Dora could sew real well too. I wanted to be a
teacher or
a nurse.
The women
cleaned house, baked cake, etc. We
got the
eggs together (from the chicken house), sometimes
taking
three or four chickens to sell — to buy groceries. If
there were
extra vegetables we sold them to stores. Mother
Maud and I
would go to
make
bread, some yard goods. Mother ordered most of our
yard goods
(they referred to cloth or fabric as goods) from
Sears
Roebuck and Co. The women had two and three sets
of
clothing. ... one to work outside in the vegetable garden,
another to
clean house or cook in, and the third for churchgoing
or
visiting. The same with shoes. In wintertime we
stayed
home and popped corn, made cracker jacks, made
candy,
bought apples by the bushel or barrel.
We always
had biscuit for breakfast. In the winter, we
always had
cornbread three times a day. And dried beans.
We had a
vegetable hill with turnips, cabbage, potatoes,
onions…
That was a hole dug in the ground with straw in it
layered
with sea grass bags over it and dirt on top. It kept
the
vegetables …We would get into it several times a winter.
We always
had a variety of food.
Once I
forgot my fruit one morning on the way to
school and
my Mother walked almost all the way to school
(about a
mile and a half) to bring it to me. We had apples
and other
fruits and she wanted me to have it! Those things
you don't
forget.
During the
warm weather, we would take our
featherbeds
out on the upper porch for sleeping…my Mother,
my dad,
and me.
My
grandfather Bill Quinn came to visit with a crate
or box of
oranges and a box of chocolate for me. He and
Grandmother
Mary Riegel Quinn separated when Aunt Maud
(Dad's
sister) was about 12. He would not support the family
of five.
Grandfather went down in mine in the Eldorado area,
had a room
and board with families that he got to know.
The church
did not take much of our time as I was
growing
up. My Father never worked on Sunday. I went to
many
Sunday schools. If I was in
friend
Kathleen Ramsey, I went with her to the Presbyterian
class.
Uncle Henry Riegel was our teacher. This was when I
was a
teenager and got to know the young people in
The years
before my Mother died we usually went to
the
Primitive Baptist at Bethel Creek. It was expected of the
family
because it was our burial ground. If we had roses or
blooming
flowers, they were taken and put on graves on May
30 or
Memorial Day.
When I was
growing up we were not always able to
give our
Mother a gift (on Mother's Day). Aunt Dora (Kathryn
and Blondel's
mother) didn't expect gifts. We went to church
and each
one wore a white corsage if your mother had died.
If your
mother was living, you wore a red corsage. It was
often a
flower from our farmyard. After the service, we came
home, rode
in the Allen car after about 1918, undressed, and
helped
with dinner preparations. We always had chicken on
Sunday.
Neighbors
were always very nice to me. I disliked
on Sundays
when the young men would race their horses
up and
down the road. They didn't have anything else to
do. They
would take these horses that worked all week and
they would
race them up and down the road. It was a typical
Sunday
activity for them. I knew all of them, but had no
occasion
to talk to them. I was just 9 or 10… A lot of them
rode
horseback wherever they were going.
Muggin School 1918 Muggin
School 1912
Gladys in
a MugginSchool picture.
Age ten,
11, and 12 were fine … going to a
school
called Muggin, but when I turned 13 it was most
difficult
… a very sad time. It was a very bad winter when I
lost my
Mother. She injured her body and death followed (in
January
1917). It made a big change in my life
My Mother
had suggested on her deathbed that we
ask Aunt
Dora, her sister, and her two girls, to come and
live with
us. (they had been abandoned by husband and
father Guy
Webb) Dad and I appreciated that. I had kept
house for
about two months after she died. I had to learn to
make
biscuits and do all the extra chores, and I wasn't quite
capable of
doing it. My aunts Elvira, Stella and Ida helped
some too.
But Aunt Dora came in about March. That created
quite a
problem for me since I'd been an only child. My
Father
helped me quite a bit. One morning before they came
to live
with us, my Dad was at the cookstove and said to me,
“Well
Jim, it's going to be a little difficult for you for a while,
but I'm
sure we will find some happy times with it. Right now
it will
have to be that way. We want you to go to school.”
So at 13,
I acquired two stepsisters, Blondel and
Kathryn.
My Father never adopted them, but he did the best
he could
by giving them an education and keeping a home
for us.
When I was at home, and Kathryn and Blondel were
here, we
had strawberry patches, and even grew peanuts
here. We
grew popcorn. My Father put in an apple orchard.
He had
about 15 acres of red delicious and yellow delicious
apples,
and pear and peach trees.
Blondel
entered high school at
in a horse
and buggy and Kathryn and I went to Muggin
School.
That year we did well. The second year of high
school I
joined Blondel in
went to
school in the buggy, but in the winter we had a room
in a house
in
own meals
and did our own shopping. Most of the food we
brought
from home, canned peaches and canned meats.
The third
year of high school in
Kathleen
Ramsey, five days a week. I went home to the farm
on
weekends.
Then when
I became 17 I went to
and went
to live with my Father's brother and sister-in-law
who had
invited me to come and be with them because we
had only a
three-year high school in
often. I
started learning the saxophone in the third year in
enjoyed
the music courses at
School at
During the
summers we often had excursions on the
railroad.
Kathleen Ramsey asked me to go on a train trip
to
who was a
kindergarten teacher. I was anxious to meet her
and ask
her for her recommendations. While there, I visited
Marshall
Fields, the museum, and the Art Institute, and I was
attracted
very much to
shortly
after that I went to
program
for education to be qualified to teach in one of our
small town
schools.
I got the
books for teaching from my cousin Blondel,
so I just
followed in her footsteps. Katheryn did the same
thing. We
met nice people in the teaching profession. My
Father was
a big influence on me because we were the
closest. I
also had lots of help from the relatives after my
Mother
died.
In those
days you didn't have to go to four years of
college to
get a teaching certificate. At
the only women's
sorority they had. I lived in their house.
There were
about 20 girls. I went to summer school too and
finished
in a year and a half. I was able to get a teaching
job at the
little mining town of
five-room
school with a principal and four teachers. I was in
charge of the kindergarten. I taught there for three years.
| Harco Teachers - 1927 - Gladys Quinn is next to the Principal on the left, and her step-sister Blondel (Webb) Limerick, who taught Elementary School in Galatia for many years is on the far right. |
I lived in
a room over the Naugle Store in Harco and prepared
the
evening meal for Cy and Justine Naugle..One fall we had
our
teachers institute … We four teachers and principal went
as a group
and sat in the assembly hall at the junior high
school in
“Hello,
Miss Quinn, I would like you to meet my friend
Raymond
Hawker. I see on your desk your name is Gladys
Quinn,
Kindergarten teacher at
School,”
(said the handsome Harrisburg High School teacher
Gilbert
Small).
Mr. Hawker
walked away and left us. I was at a loss
for words.
We walked a short distance to the opening to
the
auditorium at the
the steps
to the outside. In our walk to join my friends, Gil
asked if
it would be possible to meet him here at 4 o'clock
that
afternoon to find out how to get in touch with me. I had
to think
fast. I was not driving. We smiled at each other and
walked
away.
Practically
every one had moved on to lunch. The
steps and
street were empty. My friends, Helen Shafer, Iva
Malone,
Carmen Stone, and I walked to Iva's car. I asked
the girls
if they were in a hurry to get home. I told them Mr.
Small had
asked to meet me here in front of the Junior High
School
building at 4 o'clock. They all said, “Oh yes, we'll
stay and
you meet him.” I was still in the dark as to what
his motive
might be. We had lunch. I wondered what was
going on
here. Had I done anything to provoke his desire?
I did not
know him. I had noticed his programs in the paper.
Kate
mentioned being in his presence in music groups. She
had been
in Mr. Small's mixed quartet as one of the Indian
maidens in
their spring operetta.
As usual
we girls all tried to out dress each other. I
remember I
wore a maroon colored dress and hat, dress
size 14.
The Saline County Teachers Meeting took place in
September
or October. The auditorium was large, probably
150 to 200
teachers. Mr. Small and fellow teachers were
seated on
the east side of the auditorium. The lonely Harco
group of
five or six teachers was seated on the last row of
the
auditorium. My steady gentleman date on weekends
taught at
athletics
as basketball. He was kind, played bridge well. I
had to be
on my best game when we played auction bridge.
If I made
a mistake, I heard about it as he was driving me
home.
After our
meeting, Mr. Small pursued me by calls
to Cy Naugle's
store to try to make an arrangement for a
“get
together.” Our conversation was not at all satisfactory
because on
my part there were several people in the store,
difficult
to hear over the old box wall type telephone. He
wrote me
several short letters. I never had time to answer
between
preparing my schoolwork, dating Frank Allen
(Skeezil),
and trying to figure out what to tell Skeezil. It was a
trying
time. I remember it well. I never told any of my friends.
(I told
myself), it will have to be my own big mistake.
Mr. Small
had told me, it was difficult for us to see
each
other. He didn't have a car. Mr. Small's friend Harry
Reed didn't
have any interest in any of my friends. Finally,
he thought
of meeting at the Harrisburg Country Club with
Harry Reed
asking me and calling for me at Harco. Mr. Small
would ask Harry's
colleague Wanda Jones Welsh of 1st
National
Bank to be his date. We played bridge and talked.
All I can
say of the evening is that Mr. Small like what he saw
in me. It
was a chilly November evening in that large room.
He
continued to call the Naugle Store to talk almost
every
other day. Christmas came and, I finally wrote a short
letter. He
told me he was going home to
make
arrangements to have a car. While there his friend
Howard
Crane promised to buy a car for him and drive it
down. Mr.
Small sent me a box of candy in a sewing basket
to the
farm. I kept it for years. I might still have it.
Sometime
in January, Howard drove the car to
would be
all right to come out to see me. I was delighted. It
had been
about a month. I had been seeing Skeezil but our
dates were
not interesting any longer. I felt that a change
was
coming, but still didn't know what Mr. Small's plan was.
I spent
Christmas and a few days with Dad and Aunt
Dora.
Kathryn was home. I did talk with sister Kathryn about
Mr. Small.
I did tell her of our relationship. I was trying to
keep my
love relation to myself. Gilbert and I knew we had
found our
mate. And it wasn't going to be long before we
would be
married! Silence to other friends and relatives!
I was
frightened. A poor farm girl going to a salaried
professional
life. I kept my sanity at all times. And I think I
came
through it beautifully.
Gilbert
and I spent practically every afternoon and
evening
together after he got the car in early January, for at
least a
week or more. I managed to write Skeezil a “Dear
John”
letter. For a week I cried, wrote, trying to explain and
to be
grateful to him for tolerating me. The letter closed that
chapter in
my life. Gilbert and I were free to be together and
made
necessary plans to be married.
Our
backgrounds were so different! We spent much
of our
time trying to sort out this relationship. Not once
did it
flounder. Gilbert's goal was family, love, home, and
happiness.
I fitted into all these categories. He wanted to
make me
happy and I was anxious to see him happy.
One
evening as we were driving back to Harco from
having
dinner at Horning's Hotel, Gilbert stopped his car and
asked me
to marry him. It was a mutual delight for each of
us. The
moon lighted the fields and the telephone pole on
the right
of the car. He got out of the car and said, “I must put
something
here to remember this place. I think he found a
large
stone.
We had
been searching in our minds, something to
call the
car. It had been helpful in our relationship. We had
been going
out together every day since the car arrived.
We decided
we should take sometime off to think this over.
It was
decided that (we would take) a three-week period to
rejuvenate
our tired bodies from all the excitement. There
was the
name of the car, “Three Weeks.”
During the
three-week period we tried to bring
ourselves
back to civilization. Gilbert called Naugle Store at
least once
a week. It always gave me a lift, to know that he
cared.
My
friends, (Helen, Iva, and Carmen) and I had been
planning a
trip to
seemed to
be right. We got together and went. We girls
had a lot
of fun. None of the three suspected that I had
purchased
my wedding dress. It was beige georgette with
lace trim,
about size 10 or 12. I surprised myself. The price
was about
$25. I thought it was pretty. I think it was worn
twice, and
was quite dressy.
Around
We resumed
normal dating weekends and Wednesday
evenings.
[At about the same time, I came down with
chicken
pox.] It was all over me. I wasn't too sick, but looked
terrible.
Gilbert came out to see me bringing some popular
sheet
music. Gilbert was surprised at my piano ability.
I shocked
myself. Another plus for me. His singing was
beautiful.
He sang as we were driving or out for a ride. It was
delightful.
During
this time, I tried to sort out my life. My family
had always
been protective of me. Dad would say, “She is
worth a
million, but couldn't get a dime.” During these weeks
I found
time to write Dad and Aunt Dora. It was a letter that
talked
about Gilbert. I explained that I wanted and felt was
time for
me to get married and I did want a family. Gilbert and
I loved
each other. [I told them that] we will call and come
over for
you to meet. I remember, as if it had happened
yesterday.
I drove Gilbert's car over the yellow clay roads.
The folks
had a fire going in the stove in the parlor or south
room. I
think we had kerosene lights. The electricity had
not come
to us. I showed Gilbert the house. Aunt Dora had
cake and
coffee for us. It was primitive — poor happy farm
family.
Dad showed love for me by giving me a hug and kiss.
Gilbert
kissed Aunt Dora. Gilbert asked permission to marry
me and
told them we would probably live in
would come
home as often as possible. It had been a happy
meeting.
Gilbert and I left feeling happy.
During the
next six weeks, we saw each other on
weekends
and Wednesday evenings. I continued to prepare
the food
for the Naugles each evening. Gil came out for
dinner
frequently, usually on a Wednesday. Our schoolwork
had been
neglected and we needed to give some time to
meetings
and preparation. The food I prepared was simple,
usually
Justine made suggestions and I prepared whatever
they
wanted. I was not a cook. I learned to cook after we
were
married. Gilbert loved to eat and I had to learn and
adjust
fast. The Naugle Store was open on Wednesday
evenings.
Gilbert came early, had our dinner, and visited:
spending
some time with music at the piano and his
singing
and my playing piano as best I could. “Always” was
one
popular tune at that time. A favorite of ours. He was
somewhat
embarrassed to bring “The Song Has Ended,”
but we
survived it by joking, etc. There are others that I'll list.
There was
usually something going on at the high school
on Friday
night. He came for me. And I was accepted by
his
friends easily. My wardrobe (trousseau) was developing
each time
I shopped at Friedman Dress Shop. I think she
was buying
for me. The dresses were darling on me. I
weighed
113 pounds. Gilbert seemed to be pleased to
see me
looking pert and cute. He the handsome, debonair
gentleman.
I was not
accepted by everyone in the town of
priority,
faculty members and friends. I was Gilbert's choice
and we
were able to meet the criticism. We had not done
any wrong,
held our heads high, and enjoyed every moment
of living.
It was simple, two people who had fallen in LOVE.
I had not
given the wedding date or marriage much
thought.
The time, place, and how, evolved around his
Father's
(Eugene Lester Small) March 17th birthday. Since
my
heritage could be Irish — Mother Maud Braden Quinn
and dad
Henry Quinn, I was labeled “My Wild Irish Rose,”
“My
Irish Bride,” etc. I had always expected to be the brunt
of jokes,
not at all serious. Keep my sense of humor, I tried.
Farmer's
Daughter.
Another teacher's
meeting included
It would
be held at
Gilbert
contacted his Father, brothers Ralph, Arthur (at that
time
teaching in Culver,
friends
Howard Crane and voice teacher Estelle Pershing
and her
husband Dave Pershing. He told me about writing
to see if
all could give an evening to meeting his fiancé and
bride at
parsonage of the Congregational Church in
Lawn in
ceremony.
The Secret
Wedding Escape
We went by
train to
teachers'
institute. He made all the plans. The train came
through
the car
there, and boarded the northbound train. He got me
a berth
and I slept quite well, but who should peak in at me
to see if
I was all right? I was.
The next
morning we arrived about
from the
station to
checked in
at the Stevens (now Hilton) Hotel and then we
picked up
tickets to the matinee of “Desert Song” and from
there went
by streetcar to lunch out to the Small home at
lunch with
his parents Eugene and Louise Pope Small, his
brothers
Art, Ralph, and Sam, and Ralph's wife Helen (whom
I thought
a great deal of). Then we went back downtown
to the
theater to see the show. After changing clothes, Art
picked us
up at the Stevens and took us to the parsonage of
the church
in Chicago Lawn where they were members.
We were
married in front of the fireplace with Art and
Elva as
our “best couple” and joined by his parents, brother
Ralph and
his wife Helen, stepbrother Sam, friends Howard
Crane, and
Estelle and Dave Pershing. We all went back
to the
house for a wedding supper prepared by Louise and
Helen.
Dave Pershing sang “Because” and “Yours
Truly” accompanied
by Helen
on the piano. Around 11 we were given
lovely
wedding gifts: silver from Art and Ralph, and a beautiful
linen
tablecloth from Gilbert's parents..
We stayed
back at the
southern
got off
the train in
who were
attending the
the car in
Effingham.
It had
rained and we were exhausted and he was
making a
turn and the car slipped into a ditch. He had to go
to a
nearby house to call a wrecker to get the car out. I was
in the car
with the wedding gifts and hoping no one recognized
me. We
went home to our own rooms so we could
keep our
wedding secret.
It was,
however, only about a week that we could
keep the
secret. Then it was announced in the
Daily
Register. We found an apartment and moved in together.
The
students nicknamed it “blue heaven,” after the
popular
song.
We spent
the first summer in
home in
their extra bedroom upstairs. We spent each
Sunday
going to a well known church. Gil sang solos or
sang in a
quartet. We had dinners with Helen and Ralph at
DeMet's
and had delicious meals. Gil worked at Continental
Can while
we were there for about two months. He helped
make cans
for food.
Henry Quinn, 1929.
I did not
have employement in
we
returned to
principal
if I'd like to work half days at the public library.
I thought
it was quite a compliment. We had enjoyable
evenings
at the library. Gilbert would be doing work and
I'd be
checking the books out. I believe it was about four
years. We
belonged to a bridge club and enjoyed that every
Saturday nite.
We had a series of little apartments. The next
two or
three were furnished apartments and finally had a
nice place
with the Perkins on the second floor. We had a
piano we
bought at Lyon and Healy in
sent down.
Gil wanted
to teach in
entrance
exam that all teachers were required to take and
did real
well. He was placed at
the north
side. On the south side growing up, he attended
His
college degree was from the
his
brothers also went. He was quite musical and sang in the
university
choir and was a soloist.
It was
hard to leave southern
hated to
see us go. We had spent a lot of time on Sundays
with them.
Gil sang in the choir at the Methodist church,
and
afterwards we would change clothes and go out to the
country
for a wonderful chicken dinner or pork chops and all
the
fixings. Blondel and Kathryn and their husbands would
always be
there. We would miss coming out to the farm for
these
gatherings.
We drove
our car to
place. It
was all we could afford. It was located at 916
(Dakin?)
Street on the north side and had a dinette and
kitchen
and our bedroom was a sort of pull down bed in a
closet in
the living room. We had our piano sent up from
use. We
had to buy as we went along.
The
Depression hit us and taxes were not collected
for the
teachers salaries, so we were not paid. The building
owner did
not charge us rent for about a year and a half,
and when
Gil received a lump sum, we were able to pay him
back.
We had to
sell our car, so we took the train back down
to visit
my family during the summer. Every summer we'd be
at the
farm for a month or six weeks. Gilbert helped screen
in the
front porch for comfortable sleeping on warm nights.
... Thus,
the country girl made her home in the big city with
her
handsome husband and began another chapter in her
long life
The story continues in numerous family scrapbooks.
The above photo was taken in 1936 on the farm. Gladys passed away at age 102 on May 26, 2008.