Recipes for Living Glennis Gracey

The following is a combination of Glennis' story written for the time capsule placed in the courthouse in 1996 as part of the sesquicentennial observance and an update written in 2003:

There are aspects of my life that would have been greatly different if I'd been born some other May 13, years later than 1916. My mother, Myrtle Buxton Willey, died three days after I was born. She probably had no prenatal care. The doctor who delivered me had just come from delivering another baby and there was some kind of germ involved. The equipment may have been sterilized inadequately. None of that would be the case today, and I am told that my aunt was greatly disturbed. My father, Glen Willey, was a mechanic for Ford Motor Company in Des Moines on the comer of Grand Avenue and Fleur Drive, later the site of Des Moines Technical School. My parents lived in Des Moines, and I have a picture of the house where I was born.

My father, of course, was left alone with a new baby. It was at the time of World War I and he enlisted, was sent to France, and served three years in the trenches. I would like now to know more about that happened, but he returned, remarried, and wasn't a significant part of my life. I was raised by my paternal grandparents I.P. (Putt) and Frances Brown Willey. My grandfather's people came from Illinois; the Brown family background was Lucas County. While I was still a child, they bought a pony that I could ride to school. The pony had been raised by a family of boys who made him toe the mark. He soon discovered he knew more than I did, and could do what he chose. One particular day when I was riding him in the pasture, he chose to nibble. I fell off, dislocating my elbow and breaking my arm in two places. I can still vividly see the raw bone sticking out. I had to walk home, bawling as I went. I thought I was going to die.

My grandparents called our family practitioner, Dr. Hollenbeck, who came as immediately as was possible in those days, but when he saw how bad the break was, he called Dr. Harken to help him. I can remember this like it was yesterday - I don't remember yesterday, but I remember this. Dr. Harken made a sheet of paper into a cone, put some cotton in the bottom, and sprinkled chloroform on it. My grandmother was appointed as anesthesiologist to wave it under my nose from time to time. (I thought of this many years later when Leonard's bill for surgery included a significant cost for his anesthesiologist.) When I woke up, my arm was in a cast from wrist to shoulder. How was all that accomplished without benefit of x-ray? My grandparents at once sold the horse to Ves Handley, of Handley and Lewis Chevrolet. He bought and sold horses along with his other business. Later my grandparents bought another horse, "Jim," who was nice and gentle. Jim became my first love.

There was another instance of changing times that I knew about after I began working. A family could barely provide for their five children. Neither of the parents had job skills. The mother became pregnant when the oldest daughter was in high school. She was such a sweet lady and this was more than she could take. She went to Dr. Stroy to ask for an abortion. That was unheard of in those days, and he could do nothing. In her desperation, she died as a result of trying to abort the fetus with a coat hanger. I was working in the county welfare office at the time. I don't remember how the family was taken care of, but I thought that I would so much rather my tax dollar had supported another family member than for her to have done that.

The point is, that although in those earlier days in the century we had less money than now, there were more inconveniences, and we had to do more manual labor than currently, there were other facets of life that we don't always realize. They were not "the good ol' days," but in their passing, we lost some benefits as well. Families were closer knit and we learned values at home and at school. Our school readers had stories of morals, courage, and patriotism- qualities that were important then and are now. There was a sense of responsibility toward parents that both Leonard and I honored. I don't feel deprived by having lived in the era I did.

My grandparents' lives were guided by their sense of integrity and their work ethic! We raised our food and Grandma canned. We did our own butchering. We raised our own chickens. If there were two ways to do a job, the hard way or the easy way, they did it the hard way because the easy way couldn't possibly be as good. My grandmother had a washing machine but refused to use it. Clothes could get clean only by washing them on a scrub board.

I grew up on a farm my grandfather rented a mile south and a mile west of Osceola. In October 1929 - the Depression era - my grandparents purchased a farm six miles east of town. They had enough money saved to pay for 80 acres, at $100 an acre. They paid half and saved the other half in the Simmons bank to improve the farm. In October of that year the Simmons bank closed. They borrowed from attorney E.K. Jones and paid for the rest of it. There followed three years of drought. In 1934, '35, and '36, there were no crops. By that time I was working, and with the help I could give them, they were able to pay the interest and taxes until they sold it for $75 an acre. By that time my grandfather was 81 and no longer able to farm. They retired and moved to the acreage where I live now on East Shaw Street.

My education was at Ward #7, commonly referred to as the Bell school because it was near a Bell farm. It was a one-room country school 2 1/4 miles southwest of where we lived. It was typical for that time - one teacher was in charge of all classes, primary through eighth grade. (I couldn't name all my teachers, but Sue Hochstein taught when I was in eighth grade.) At the time designated for each class, the students came forward to recite at the "recitation bench" in front of the room. The lower grades were exposed to the lessons of the upper grades and therefore were learning from them as well as from their own assignments. I suppose that may have contributed to the fact that when I graduated from eighth grade, I could read. That may not seem to be a necessary statement, but I am greatly disturbed by media reports that kids are graduating even from high school, unable to read. Additionally, I give my family lots of credit. I didn't have access to the library and children's books but we took a daily paper and farm magazines, and my grandparents, even at their age, emphasized reading. Kids by and large miss that today. I am so aware of it that I have been volunteering in elementary school for about three years, listening to children read.

Teachers at that time had other duties as well. They were custodians, doing the cleaning and building fires in a stove that sat in the middle of the room. Students on one side froze and on the other side roasted. The teacher was also the disciplinarian, but the attitude of parents was that if you were in trouble at school, you were in more trouble when you returned home.

I walked the 2 1/4 miles to school when the weather permitted, and at times in winter when it was bad, Grandpa hitched the team, Ted and Prince, to the bobsled and took me to school, gathering kids along the way. Grandpa took pride in his horses and hitched them to the buggy when the weather and roads were favorable, and drove us to town.

I have some distinct recollections of the late 1920s. In 1927 or '28, an unusual sculpture was done by a transient artist. The story was that the man's wife and child had drowned and he went through the country making flat sculptures of them in mud. Wes Ford took a picture of the local one and it was printed in the Osceola Sentinel-Tribune.

Simmons was one of three banks in town. The others were Iowa State Bank and National Bank. Simmons bank was in the south half of the building at 123 South Main, now Redman's Pizza and Steak House. There was an eagle, now covered, on the facade near the roof The north half of the Simmons' bank building was Paul's farm implement and hardware store. Jamison's store was located at 100 North Main, the address of Flowers 'N More; the London Drug Store was across the street on North Main. The name "London" is still in the tile in front of the doors to the store. The north half of 139 South Main, now Clarke County was Harrison's Grocery. Kraft Clothing was north of Harrison Grocery. Ettinger Grocery and Dry Goods was the north half of 127 South Main, where Robinson's store is; and George Heinrich had a drug store in the south half of that building. Slaymaker Law Firm had the full building which has since been divided.

We came to town on Saturday afternoons to shop and we traded our eggs and butter for groceries or other items we needed at Jamison's store. About 1926, I remember that my grandmother churned and sold enough butter from January to June to buy a new Ford car, which was the first car we had. My grandfather bought it from the salesman, Tom Stansell, who worked for the Ford agency managed by Phil Igo in the brick building at 220 South Main, which became Snowdon's lingerie factory. Phil Igo's name is still on the building next to the roof.

I was customarily given a nickel to buy an ice cream cone at London Drug Store. When he was a high school student, Bob Killmar worked for Lew London. My grandfather usually went to "loaf' and look at merchandise at Parrish Hardware. I often chose to go with him because if there was something I wanted, I was more apt to get it, than if I went with my grandmother. On a day when I would have been about seven, I spotted a wooden coaster wagon with rubber tires for the big sum of $5. I got it and it served well. I played with it, years later my children played with it, we hauled dogs, goats, and whatever else in it. In the early 1990s, I sold it to an antique dealer for $45.

In the late 1920s and early 30s there was a large enough black population to have their own church - the A.M.E. (African Methodist Episcopal). John Wesley Griffin who was in my high school class received the citizenship award at our graduation. Hailey and Bessie Bryant lived on West Clay. Hailey drove a hack for years during the first half of the century. He hauled freight and express, met the train and hauled passengers to the hotel, mail from the post office to the depot, and always had a smile and nod for everybody.

In 1929, when I started to high school, there were many kids who also started, but shortly dropped out. They might go a year or two but they didn't have the where-with-all to continue. As I look back, I marvel that I was able to go, but my grandparents were adamant. To them it was like Leonard's and my insistence that our children go to college. I graduated in 1933, just barely 17, and fortunately I could make practical use of my education. I confess that I didn't apply myself to math, but I'd had spelling and English, and I was qualified for a secretarial position because of my two years of shorthand and typing.

At that time, President Roosevelt started his general relief program as part of the New Deal. The courthouse put an ad in the paper for secretaries to work in the office, so I applied. They particularly needed someone who could take shorthand. They didn’t specify which office, but I was called to come in for an interview in what was then called the Relief Office, later the Welfare Office, and still later Department of Human Services. The office was on the third floor of the old courthouse. We froze in the wintertime and melted in the summer. I'd never met up with so called "relief." I was exposed to shocking situations when people came in for every facet of their livelihood - medical expenses, groceries, clothing, fuel, and/or children’s' needs. It was
an eye-opener and I didn't like being in that atmosphere. I felt so sorry for those who came to apply and the attitude of the office personnel was often more critical than helpful or sympathetic. It was somehow the fault of these people if they found themselves in that situation, and that was far from the general rule.

I paid $2 a week for an efficiency apartment in the 200 block on North Jackson Street. Mrs. Neal owned the house and she was a good, as well as a creative, carpenter. There was a room with a clothes closet at the end of the hall. She put a little sink in the closet and voila! An apartment with a kitchen. I resettled into it for $2.50 a week. Bernice Curnes had a similar arrangement in another room and former closet. She hung her clothes and cooked on a two burner oil stove in that closet-turned-kitchen. Need it be mentioned that these were days prior to fire inspectors? Bernice worked for Mr. Goeldner who was then the Clarke County Extension director.

It was about this time that a Des Moines paper ran a series of articles in which they named the 10 most successful men in the city and each day told about one of them. I have never forgotten one who said that the smartest work-related decision he ever made was to be sure that he was surrounded with people who knew more than he did so he could learn from them. I hadn't had that experience.

On December 7, 1941, Japan bombed Pearl Harbor and World War II was underway. I saw an ad for office workers at the Ordnance Plant in Burlington. I had my own car so I drove over and applied. I took the test, and was hired. I thoroughly enjoyed my work. I liked being in a new situation and meeting new people. Here I was, indeed, working for people who knew more than I did. I was appreciated more and learned more from my work than I ever had. I had a sleeping room, and made friends with a bunch of girls, who did things together. I came home occasionally but gas was rationed, which curtailed driving. However, I began to realize that my grandparents needed more attention, and I came back home in April, and returned to my job in the Welfare Office.

I don't honestly remember just when I met Leonard Gracey. He lived in Osceola, and went to school here, but he was 12 years older than I - he was born in 1903 - so we weren't in the same groups. Leonard was working for ISU (Iowa Southern Utilities). He cared for his mother and an invalid sister. I had my grandparents, so we had that in common. This was before Social Security or any means of support beyond what we could earn. There was Old Age Assistance and we took applications at the Welfare Office, but Leonard and I were of the mindset that we would do without assistance for our dependents, if we possibly could. Neither of us applied for help for them.

We resumed dating when I came back from Burlington in April, and were married in June 1942. We moved into a building owned by Kate McKee, in an apartment upstairs above where Dr. Lower's office is. The next thing that happened was his draft notice. We didn't expect it because we each had two dependents. Lorraine recently sent me a book that lots of fellows drafted into the service could relate to. It was recommended by persons in a Literary Club, whose members are editors and writers. This one was written by a fellow who was editor of The New Yorker for 40 years. The title is Life of Privilege, Mostly. In the beginning he deals with the privileged part. He came from an affluent family, and when he was drafted, with his education and world travels, he expected to have a position of some distinction. They put him in the Infantry. Such experiences happened often.

Leonard enlisted in the Navy in September 1942. He went in as an Electrician's Mate, 1st Class. He was in San Diego for two years, because beyond his basic training, he was given a position of instructing new recruits. He was put in charge of landing-craft boats. While he was there, in 1944, I went to be with him and returned to Osceola when he was shipped out. He served for a total of three years and three months, half of which he spent in the Pacific Theater. He would have gone in on the first wave to Japan if they had not .dropped the bomb on Hiroshima.

Leonard was discharged in November 1945. He came home and went back to work at ISU. My next job was at Bob Killmar's Law Office. Bob was a nice, friendly fellow. He had always known my grandparents, which may have given me an edge. When Ward Reynoldson came to town, Bob took him in as his partner. It is ridiculous what things our minds retain. Of all the law cases we dealt with, I remember only one remark from a divorce case Bob handled for people from out of town. He said, "The wife was pulling the wool over her husband's eyes and the sheet over her and somebody else." It might have been better to have forgotten that.

I stayed in that position until our children were born. Thomas Burke Gracey was born April2, 1948; Glenys Lorraine was born September 15, 1950. They were, of course, the light of our lives, the most wonderful kids that ever were! Tom started to school at West Ward and was moved to East Ward for first grade. His first teacher was Miss Mosley, Lorraine's was Miss Conley. They probably brought home lots of papers but one that I remember was at the end of Lorraine's kindergarten year, when were to print their names. She brought home a paper with her name printed backward and upside down. Read in a mirror, it was perfect. Now I believe they would have diagnosed her as dyslexic. I discovered that there were several papers with her name printed that way and brought them to the teacher's attention and she said she hadn’t noticed. I printed Lorraine's name, told her that was how her name should look, and she outgrew the problem. I was glad that both of our children had Mrs. Gripp, Mrs. Leota Johnson, and Mrs. Pat Fisher as teachers. They were outstanding. And even though I am sure I made lots of mistakes as our children were growing up, one thing I am confident that I did right was that I read to them.

In high school, both Tom and Lorraine excelled in sports. Tom was tall - he is now six feet five inches and probably near that at the time. Tom was in Cub Scouts and Little League, in high school baseball, football, track, but his main accomplishment was in basketball. He was the team's high scorer, as was Lorraine. Both the kids swam. Tom played clarinet in band and Lorraine was in chorus. She was in Brownie Scouts, Girl Scouts, and 4-H.

Leonard bought Lorraine a horse, and her experience was similar to mine. He was supposed to be gentle but soon learned that he was in command. He made the decision when to go and where. It was unfortunate. The horse was such a nice fellow, but she had no more knowledge of handling a horse than I did at a similar age, and horses are smart. We gave up and sold him.

Tom graduated from high school in 1966, Lorraine in 1968. Tom went on to junior college in Centerville on a basketball scholarship, and then Western Illinois University at McComb. He earned his degree and would have been eligible for coaching or teaching, but he graduated not really knowing what he wanted to do. He listened to everybody who told him what he should be, but he didn't know what he wanted. He went to radio school in Arizona and became an announcer in Bakersfield, California. He went to New York and was an auditor for a restaurant in the Twin Towers. He came home because of Leonard's health. Tom's boss found that Tom's honesty was exceptional and called to ask him back. I can't bear to think of what might have happened if he had stayed! I was watching the day the towers were hit. His job was on the 40th floor of the north tower, and I believe that was the first one to be hit. I saw it. I was watching the "Today" show and reading the paper when I glanced up and wondered what show that was. It slowly dawned on me what unthinkable event was taking place! And Lorraine was in New York!

Lorraine went to the University of Iowa when she graduated from high school and earned a degree in journalism. She went to New York immediately after she graduated from college and worked for the New York Times and several magazines. At the present time her main job is with Tiffany's. She doesn't work on Wednesdays and uses those days for free lance opportunities. This arrangement gives her the freedom to work at home and respond to offers to research and write about particular subjects. She has done quite a lot of traveling. She ran onto Bob Byers' daughters on the beach in Brazil. She has been to France and Italy, and went to Normandy in November of 2002. I have made trips to New York to visit and she has rented cars for us to travel and sightsee. I have complimented her on how well she gets around, saying that she is almost accomplished enough to drive on West McLane in Osceola. Both Tom and Lorraine come home for the 4th of July and Christmas. Being closer, Tom comes more often.

Lorraine loves New York and while the rest of us were shocked and appalled at the attack of September 11, 2001, she has never recovered. She has stood at Ground Zero with thousands of others who are speechless. A friend of hers had a law office on the 21st floor of an adjacent building and she helped him load stacks of files into carts and haul them down the stairs. The memory doesn't go away. This was not only destruction of buildings and lives, this was an attack on her city and her grief was and is genuine and long-lasting.

I was home raising our family until Lorraine was in school. At that time they started the hot lunch program. The husband of the girl hired for that position was transferred, and they were unable to find anyone to take the responsibility. I have never understood why Mr. Kemp asked me, but he came to the house and sat there as though he didn't intend to leave until I agreed to take the position, so I did. It was difficult. There was only one lunch served and the students from all the schools were bussed there. It was necessary for me to plan the meals and I remember some nights sitting up until midnight making sure that we met government requirements for Vitamin A in foods twice a week, Vitamin C every day, etc. We used surplus commodities - cheese and turkey, I remember. We were required to put the complete meal on the plates whether or not it was eaten. I had wonderful ladies to work with but it was hard to put up with the complaints of students and parents. The only item there were never complaints about was wieners served every Monday.

I was there for a year when Rev. Clint Wolf came to town to serve the First Christian Church (Disciples). Even though church was not a part of our lives as I was growing up, my grandfather was baptized in 1923 when I was seven years old. I attended intermittently, was baptized and joined the Disciples of Christ Church in Osceola in May 1943. Leonard was already a member and served as a deacon many times. The church burned during a night in 1954 while Rev. Warren Rile was the pastor. Leonard was scheduled to serve as deacon the next morning. Dwight Brim, who was also to serve, called to ask if Leonard planned to do that and when I said yes, Dwight said, "Where? The church burned down last night." Like many others, we hadn't known it. The congregation responded with unity and the new church was built and dedicated on November 11, 1956.

Rev. Wolf was young and it seemed natural for all of us to call him Clint. He wanted a secretary, so I was on hand to see the opening of another era. Until that time there was no such position in our church but Clint was innovative and began several features which now have ongoing attention - such as the newsletter, review of membership records, etc. It would be a halftime job, which worked beautifully because at the same time people from the Welfare Office came to see me. They, too, wanted a halftime secretary. Both of these commitments were stressful and I resigned from the Welfare Office even though it was not a timely decision. Leonard was in the hospital and our two kids were in college. However, a couple days later I had a call from the Reynoldson Law Firm. In all my years of working in Osceola, that was the most rewarding job from the standpoint of the man I quoted earlier - I was working for and learning from people who knew far more than I did. I worked there for ten years and retired.

Due to his failing health, in 1965 Leonard took early retirement at the age of 62. Thinking that he needed more exercise, there came a time when I ordered an exercise bike for him from Montgomery Ward. It arrived in a box, unassembled. No problem. He had always been very adept at reading and following instructions but this time, when I handed him the paper, he didn't know what to do. He couldn't assemble it. In these days, to be politically correct, I suppose we would say that I am mechanically challenged," but it was up to me to figure out the instructions. I must have gotten everything in the right place because it worked.

I put the incident with the bike instructions behind me and lived in denial that Leonard had any mental decline. I tend not to want to face adversity. If I don't pay attention, maybe it will go away. It became more and more evident, however, and it was probably about 1970 when doctors began to talk to us about Alzheimer’s. Not much was known about it at that time, but I had read some articles on the subject. He also had glaucoma. I'd also read about it. Wolfe Eye Clinic prescribed drops in his eyes but they didn't help, and they had to perform surgery. It finally became necessary to put Leonard in Veteran's Hospital in Knoxville, Iowa. He passed away December 18, 1983.

Now I live alone, ruled by my two cats, Midnight and Fluff. Midnight and I were quite content with just the two of us, but one night there was such a howling outside my bedroom window that it woke me up. I turned on the light and went to the door. Here was a big, fluffy, yellow cat who confronted me almost as though saying, "What kept you?" He came in, was right at home, and has been here ever since.

I have a large property and mow my own lawn. This winter I had a bad fall. My legs shot out from under me as I was coming to my house from the garage. I hurt my arm and leg, and couldn't get up. The cats came to sympathize but that was the extent of their help. It took me awhile to recover but as soon as I was able, I began to use the exercise bike. I could measure how much it helped because I go in the north door at the elementary school to volunteer two mornings a week. After my fall I had to take the many steps one at a time, but now I am able to climb them normally.

I am active in the First Christian Church. I pick up other widowed friends to take them on Sunday mornings after which we go out for dinner. I've taken my turn holding various offices in our women's group. Reading is still very much a part of my life. The first thing I do every day is read the paper cover to cover. I subscribe to the Readers' Digest and read it all, including the condensed book section. I belong to Book Lover's Club.

I am very content. I don't mind being alone, maybe because, being an only child, that is the way I grew up. People sometimes wonder how it can be that I am not lonely for my children, but the best report about both of them is that they doing what are the best jobs they could have to suit their personalities. Lorraine is in her place of choice, New York City, and Tom has for years been in the maintenance department of the University of Missouri in Kansas City.

I began this thinking of eras that have now passed. In these days of more education and greater opportunities, we can be grateful if our children are taking advantage of them. I consider it so important to keep our minds active. I'm concerned for kids who can't read and wonder what will become of them. I don't know that I am helping by reading with them at school, but I can't think of a better use of my time. Maybe it makes a difference. I am willing to try.