RON AND VIRGINIA OGAN

As told by Virginia

I was born on Easter morning, April 17, 1938, the oldest of three girls born to Carmon and Hazel Johnson. There was a snowstorm that day but my parents were able to go to Montezuma, where I was delivered by a nurses' aide, Mrs. Groenenbaum, and Dr. Williams. Mrs. Groenenbaum maintained a large house from which the doctor came and went to take care of patients as needed.

Our home was in Ewart, eight miles northwest of Montezuma. The community is still there but reduced to a few houses and a United Presbyterian Church. We lived in three rooms above my father's grain elevator, which he had purchased from my great aunt and uncle. He operated the business on the first floor of the building, in an office heated by a pot-bellied stove. There was a grate above it, and based on the principle that heat rises, our three rooms were thereby heated. We had no running water, just electricity and an outhouse.

The elevator was used by farmers to store their grain. While I was pre-school age, Dad's business had the advantage of daily train service, but when that became a thing of the past, Dad relied on trucks. Mom learned to drive so that she could take care of the hauling during the day and both drove at night so that the farmers could empty their bins.  I have a vivid memory of how this involved the entire family. Nancy was born when I was about five, and Sara when I was ten. On these trips, Nancy rode with Dad and Sara and I with Mom. She would take sandwiches for our lunch and put palettes on the floor covered with folded blankets for our sleeping arrangement.

This was the way they took care of business during harvest time. We would go to Cedar Rapids or Muscatine, hauling corn and soy beans. I loved Muscatine because of the river. I was simply fascinated watching it and even now could sit and watch a river all day. In the winter months my parents used the trucks to haul coal from Eddyville for people to burn in stoves and furnaces.

I was probably about five years old when our family moved to a house that had running water in the kitchen and a furnace with central heat. We only had two bedrooms but the space was much bigger than where we had been. On that property there were lots of apple and plum trees to climb and a catalpa tree with a swing. In my early years I didn't have any playmates my age, but I had many adult friends and lots of pets. The farmers who came to do business with my father brought me litters of kittens and stray dogs. I played with them like other little girls played with dolls, dressing them up in clothes and making them ride in my doll buggy. It was so much fun!

One farmer's wife, Mrs. Fleming, brought or sent treats to me. We didn't have cookies but she buttered slices of bread and sprinkled brown sugar on them. I've always been interested in food and that was some of the best! In her later years, when Mrs. Fleming was in her 90's, she was in a nursing home in Des Moines and Mother and I went to see her. One of the first things she said was, "I will never forget the twinkle in your eye when you saw what I had brought you."

Next door to us was an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Decker, probably in their 70's. They seemed old to me then-not so much anymore! Mr. Decker had a mattress factory in their home - mattresses made to order. The equipment consisted of a fiber grinder for grinding chunks of cotton (the fiber of choice) which became fluffy and smooth as it went into a bag, but I'll bet after a few nights those mattresses were flat as pancakes. When they had an order for a mattress, they always invited me to watch the process. The Deckers also raised rabbits and when they invited me to eat with them we had rabbit sandwiches or rabbit and noodles. My mom was quite appalled but they tasted good to me.

Mom was quite concerned that I might be hit by one of the many trucks that were constantly coming and going, so she put the harness on me and fastened it to the clothesline. The farmers thought it was terrible and often undid the harness. I didn't think it was so limiting and even if it did restrict my body, my mind went wandering everywhere. A reader would have to think back to the times in which we were living to appreciate my fantasies as I laid in the grass under the clothesline. My imagination was stimulated because of the naval flight training station in Ottumwa. Lots of planes flew over every day and I'd imagine I was flying and bombing the enemy. Every day my dad would ask what the news was that day and I'd have a story to tell. "President McArthur bombed 20,000 Japanese!" However, there was a grim reality to the war for me. Many young men in our community went, and two of my uncles were drafted. I worried about it more than I needed.

I went to Pleasant Township #5 from kindergarten through 4th grade. It had been built with two rooms but only one was used. Some of the kids came on bicycles and one family that lived a couple miles from the school came in a horse-drawn buggy. I walked because the school was only about a block from home. However, it took me a long time to get there and I was tardy more than once. You see, our family had cows that produced more milk than we needed, so I had a milk route for selling milk and cream. On my way to school, I loved to stop to visit with my customers. I still remember the houses that, of course, are no longer there.

While I was in kindergarten, the teacher, Miss Evelyn Poots, boarded at our house. Teachers were hard to find and school boards had to bargain to get them. Dad was the director of the board. Except for one year when I had a classmate, I was the only student in my class. It worked to my advantage because it gave me the opportunity to read from the books of the older kids, books with pretty pictures. My mom had been a teacher so she encouraged me as well, and I read everything I could get my hands on.

When I was about six-years-old, in the days before penicillin, I had rheumatic fever that developed from strep throat. After I recovered, the doctor set up an appointment with a specialist in Newton. Specializing has become more definitive now, but in those days there were quite a few eye-ear-nose-and-throat doctors. The one we saw was Dr. Woods, who saw the need for a tonsillectomy, and performed it assisted by Dr. Fellows. (It surprises me how readily the names of these doctors come to mind when I can't remember where I just put the mail.)

After the surgery they did a routine eye exam and discovered an abnormality in my right eye. I was sent on to Iowa City where it was discovered that I had been born blind in that eye and had never known it. The problem showed up when I was about 11 years old. At that time both my eyes were very weak and the doctors watched them closely. They limited my reading which resulted in my doing a stupid thing. At night I held a tiny light under the covers and read. I am fortunate that it caused no long-term effects.

In second and third grades I had a single lady, Miriam Dayton, for a teacher. She was probably the most influential teacher I ever had. She had traveled extensively and had scrap­ books containing pictures of the places she had been. She loved to tell about the places she had visited and encouraged us to read about them as well. She introduced us to the county-wide library and borrowed books so that our access was unlimited. She gave coupons for perfect spelling papers and with them she purchased books for us. That seemed wonderful to me! If I spelled words correctly, I could earn books! I worked at it and doubt that I ever had an imperfect paper.

After more than 50 years, I still have two of the books I earned: Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer obtained from the Becky Thatcher Book Store. By my insistence on their care and laying down rules that there would be no eating or drinking while reading those books, they have survived two sisters and our two children. Now I can hardly wait for Grandson Nathan to be able to read them. Our family is aware that somewhere in our genealogy, we are related to Samuel Clemens. His life included some black blood and slavery stories. My sister says we should spend some time with Dad's cousin in Knoxville who has kept family information. It is one of those things we keep intending to do but delaying.

Miss Dayton also brought a crank Victrola to school, probably obtained from the county office. With that aid she taught music appreciation and made it fun. She encouraged us to know, not just the names of the composers, but something about them and the times in which the music was written. I am pleased that when I have asked Nathan about what they are learning in the Tulsa school system, I discovered they are apparently using methods similar to those Miss Dayton employed. She took groups to talent shows and had WHO radio people come to our school so occasionally we got to sing on radio! In other words, she immersed us in music as Nathan's teacher seems to be doing now.

The church has been a constant influence in my life. I was baptized as an infant in the United Methodist Church in Montezuma, where our family attended. Two others were baptized with me and an aunt of one of them had just returned from the Holy Land. She had brought water from the Jordan River and all three of us were given the privilege of being baptized with that special water.

When I was a small child my family went to a little Presbyterian Church in Ewart, always attending Sunday school, two weeks of Bible School in the summer, and summer youth conferences. A dear lady, Mrs. McMeeken, led a Junior Missionary Society of which I was a part. She was disabled, hunch backed, but with a love for the Lord that clearly showed through. She had no children of her own and spent countless hours with the children at our church. She taught us scriptures and occasionally had us give a program where we could recite what we learned.

Mrs. McMeeken was the pianist and played the pump organ for Sunday school and occasionally filled in for church. When I was about six-years-old she decided I should learn to play the piano and gave me lessons from the church hymnal. At that time we had no piano at home, so I practiced at her house. When we did get a piano I took real lessons from a teacher who had appropriate books. I became the Sunday school pianist and, while the older ladies usually played for church, sometimes I was given the opportunity.

Occasionally someone asks us to be specific about when we dedicated our lives to the Lord and I can't answer that. You would need to know in what a nurturing environment I was raised. My parents were involved in groups that got together in homes for Bible study. We were raised knowing meditation and the undergirding of spiritual nurturing. The entire community was interested in us as children and youth and they expected us to abide by a standard of morality. It was assumed that we would so live and I have talked with others who grew up as I did. We all felt the same way.

So even though I can't name the date or time, I don't think I missed it. It was just a natural development. Perhaps the words of a psalm explains it: "...Hear my teaching, listen to the words of my mouth. I will open my mouth in parables, I will utter hidden things, things from of old-what we have heard and known, what our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, his power, and the wonders he has done" (Ps. 78:1-4).

When I was in the fifth grade, our parents made the decision that all three of us should go to Montezuma to town school. This made for many new experiences, among them riding the bus which we boarded by 7:00 a.m. That meant having breakfast before that hour, and with all three of us prone to car-sickness, it called for some deliberation and experimentation so that we could stay in school once we got there. The best way, I discovered, was to skip breakfast. That didn't seem to have an effect on my growth. I matured early-I was as big and as tall in 6th grade as I am now, which made me stand out among classmates. To this day I am very comfortable missing that meal altogether.

In fifth grade, probably one of biggest deals was that we had movies - not just slides - and school-wide assemblies. One of my favorites was Al Bell. He was associated with WHO radio, traveled to different areas and picked up souvenirs, then went around to various schools and did travelogues.

It was also new to me to have many classmates, slumber parties, and basketball and football games to attend. In the winter months, when the lake froze over, one high school teacher and his wife chaperoned our skating outings and all they asked in return was for one or two of us to babysit their children. They seem to be the only teachers whom I specifically remember for what they did. I can recall others and considered them all neat people, but I don't especially remember why. Both the principal and superintendent had been in those positions when my parents had been in school and I thought they must be older than dirt to have been around that long.

In junior high I started playing a band instrument, an alto saxophone. We had lessons every week and group rehearsals every day. However, by that time I preferred singing. We had a junior high choir and special groups. We learned to sing parts and read music. I don't remember much of anything that I did except that. I was not athletic at all; in fact, come to think of it, I must have been kind of a dud. Extra-curricular activity by that time was a township 4-H club of which Mother was the leader and we went by the name of Pleasant Chickadees. My projects were sewing, cooking, and home furnishings, which didn't appeal to friends of mine who preferred livestock projects and joined the boys' 4-H.

This does not mean that I was deprived of the farm animal experience. I milked cows and learned to care for calves that were rejected by their mothers. However, my dad insisted that he was raising a girl, not a tomboy. It was his expectation that I go choring in a dress unless the weather was very cold when I could pull on a pair of warm slacks under my dress. I would have loved to wear blue jeans as many of my peers did, but that was not permitted. In fact, I did not own a pair of blue jeans until five years ago. About five years earlier Mother had given me birthday money saying, "Please buy yourself a pair of blue jeans. Everyone is wearing them and they look very comfortable."

I went shopping and absolutely could not make the purchase, thinking of my late father's opinion. Periodically I looked in the stores for the jeans and one day as I was looking I had an inspirational thought. When I was growing up my parents did not use alcohol or tobacco in our home but after we girls were on our own, my father began smoking a pipe. That day I took a pair of jeans to the cash register, free of guilt. My thought was that my father had changed and I surely could as well.

Jeans would have been so comfortable when I was 12-years-old and detassled corn for the first time. Having a pay check was another new experience. I saved my money and purchased a set of encyclopedias that were wonderful. We were so far from school and town and these books provided the resource for writing assignments and term papers. I spent seven summers in the cornfield and by the time I went away to school and had finished detassling, I'd been foreman of the crew for two years. That gave me the experience of managing people.

I have a long-term friend, Sylvia, whose family had moved from Garden Grove to Montezuma. We were classmates and had mutual musical interests, so we shared and continue to share some fond memories.  Among them was a time when she and a cousin spent a 10-hour day detassling. They had no idea what they were getting into and when the day was over they both had worked longer and harder than they would ever choose to work, all for 65¢ an hour. (As foreman I got $1 an hour.) As an incentive to continue working, there was an hourly bonus of 3¢ that would be forfeited if they quit, but the two girls were ready to relinquish that. Being her friend, I tried to figure a way to help her salvage her 3¢ and I suggested that they agree to being fired. That was the way we handled it and it worked out amicably. She and I remain friends. She lives in Stockton, California, and we talk on the phone about once a month. It is amazing how our lives have continued to cross. Sylvia's mother was my sister Sara's second grade teacher and many years later her son-in-law, who is in the Air Force, was a flight student of Sara’s husband.

After detassling was over in 1953, I felt very tired and ran a fever which rose to 104°. I was hospitalized in Grinnell by our family physician, Dr. Korfinacher. He recognized symptoms of polio and made that diagnosis in a few hours. Weakness of my arms and legs followed with the treatment including frequent hot packs, using woolen sweaters heated in hot water in a "Kinney packer." The water was extracted with a centrifuge pump. It was a noisy and smelly devise invented years earlier by Sister Kinney, a pioneer in nursing care for polio patients.

Fortunately I don't remember all the details of the illness but became concerned when my parents came to visit and stood by the bed and cried. Dad disappeared for awhile and returned with a box containing a Bulova watch with a raised dome and expansion band. I was thrilled because my parents had promised that I would receive a watch the next year for my 16th birthday. Later they shared with me that they were concerned that this life-threatening illness could interfere with that plan. The watch became an early symbol of my growing up.

An incident has helped us laugh about this time in our lives. Mom came in early one morning to be with me and I greeted her with, "Sure glad you got here because I've needed a bedpan for a long time." She responded, after helping me that the nurses would have assisted me had I used the call light to which I said, "Oh, I would have done that but they turned off the lights and went home a long time before I needed it." Little did I know that hospitals were staffed 24 hours a day. If there were any doubts, they were erased when I was in nursing school. I put in hundreds of hours of night duty. At that time it was the practice to use students during the less desirable hours of the evening and night shifts.

Because my father was one of 11 children, there were numerous uncles and aunts who weren't much older than I. During the summer we spent time at my grandparents' house, especially during threshing time to help cook for the crew of men. Or my younger aunts and uncles would come to visit us. One of my uncles was Raymond, nicknamed Rink. When they came, we usually did something special. Oftentimes we would take them to a state park where we would picnic, hike on the trails, or swim - although none of us could swim. We mostly just splashed around in the water.

My dad loved trains and took every opportunity to use that mode of travel. Dad had a license to trade grain on the floor of the Board of Trade, which took him to Chicago and about once a year the family went there also. We would stay overnight in a hotel and see Lake Michigan, or go through the museums, the zoo, look at the fountains, and in a couple days return home.

We girls were able to fund our way because farmers, in harvesting corn, dropped some of the ears; and, if they weren't going to use it to feed cattle or no one wanted it, we could go to the field and pick it up. Dad would weigh it and buy it from us and that was our vacation money. One trip we made to Denver, Colorado, also by train, to visit relatives. We also occasionally went to northern Minnesota to fish. Dad enjoyed the fishing and the rest of us rented books to read. It was mainly a time for the family to be together and to contemplate what we would do if bears came. We liked to tell Sara that bears particularly like younger bodies because they were tender, so she would be the first they would take. Our last family trip was during the Christmas holiday in 1956 when we went to Brownsville, Texas, and on to Monterey, Mexico. Mom's health situation changed the following year precluding any other travels.

Besides loving to fish, Dad enjoyed hunting and he had numerous guns and rifles. Often he and his friends went pheasant hunting. He also loved having a blind so that he could hunt for ducks and geese. There was a time when he decided to trap fox. He was so successful that he skinned enough foxes to make mother a coat  A real accomplishment! The coat is presently hanging in sister Nancy's closet and I ask her from time to time if she has worn it, but she teaches in a college and with all the emphasis against cruelty to animals she hesitates to do that. Her students wouldn't know that when Dad was hunting the foxes, they were killing sheep and chickens. Hunting them was not only an accepted but an encouraged practice. I've thought of her wearing it as validation of the fact that she is an eccentric teacher. (It runs in the family!)

Our children would like to have a more romantic story of Ron's and my acquaintance and courtship, but the facts are that his family and mine lived very close and we have always known each other. We grew up together and were both part of a group that ran around together, going to the skating rink or movies, etc. I could use my Dad's pickup and piled all the kids I could in the back end and off we would go! It wasn't until Ron came back from the service that we dated.

Ron was born August 1, 1931. His family consisted of his parents, Ralph, Sr. and Alma Ogan, one brother Ralph, Jr., and one sister Shirley. Even though Ron was the youngest child, he insists that he wasn't spoiled - the children were too close in age to allow that. They lived across the road south of Marshalltown, which would now have been within the city limits? At that time it was north of highway 30, five blocks south of the viaduct. Ralph, Sr., was a farmer and also hauled garbage for hog feed. One of the places where he picked it up was Stone's Restaurant, which is very familiar to people throughout that area. Ron recalls that, due to the fact that there were no laws requiring restaurants to dispose of left-over food, the family often benefitted. Stone's was known for its mile-high lemon chiffon pie and the family often was treated to this delicacy.

Ron began his education in rural schools - Marshall County, then Poweshiek at Grinnell, then Pleasant Township School #9 near Ewart when he was in the fifth grade. He graduated from high school in Montezuma, having chosen electives that included agriculture and typing. Farm chores before and after school eliminated the opportunity for extra-curricular activities except for FFA (Future Farmers of America). His projects in that organization were sheep and raising corn. He farmed the last year in high school and two years following, and produced the first 9rop of Cargill Hybrid Seed Com planted on the contour; i.e., around the hill where rows ·were on the level. During winter months he worked in the Grinnell College snack bar; and after graduation worked at Virginia's dad's elevator full time. He also worked for a year at a grain elevator in Brooklyn, Iowa. He protests that he was not unusually industrious. It was customary for boys to work in those days.

Ron recalls his early years: "I was quite a happy child, especially with two siblings close in age. My brother was the older, but we were very close throughout the years of his life. His death, in 1963, brought me to be closer to my sister in adult life, and we still are very close.

"During my pre-teen and teen years I led the 'hay horse' (the horse that pulls the forks loaded with hay up into the bam). Also for several summers I sat on the tractor, stopping and starting it during threshing operations. That led to driving the tractors for several neighbors each summer, doing field work for them. Next came driving the truck for my father at the elevator."

Young men were fully aware, also, of their draft status and when Ron knew that his number would be coming up, he volunteered for Army duty. He trained in Fort Riley, Kansas, then was sent to Japan for two months of schooling learning how to protect against various types of warfare - chemical (gas); biological (germ); and radiological. From there Ron was sent to Korea to an infantry unit defending the border between North and South Korea. His typing education paid off and he was transferred to the Regimental Headquarters Office as a clerk/typist. After serving two years of active duty overseas, he was returned to the U.S. and released to inactive duty for the next six years. He was honorably discharged from the U.S. Anny forever after.

Following military duty Ron worked at the elevator in Brooklyn again for one year and went on to Burroughs Corporation in Des Moines. They provided five months of training in St. Louis after which he began, in 1955, repairing office machines in Des Moines.

As I said before, Ron had known me since I was two-or three-years old. After he returned from his years in the military, our lives crossed particularly as we, along with many of our friends, went roller skating at the Memorial Building in Montezuma. We began going as a couple and we still laugh with my mom that the only rule was that I had to be in by the time the street lights came on. In the summer, that allowed us quite a lot of time.

My high school principal, in those days the closest we came to having a guidance counselor, encouraged me to consider a career in nursing. His daughter was a graduate from Iowa Methodist Nursing School so after I graduated I enrolled there. During the first year, I lived in a house on Callanan Drive in Des Moines. The house is no longer there but would have been across the street east of Younker's Rehabilitation Center. After that, 12 of us lived in an unenviable situation in an old brick house on Pleasant Street. I use the word unenviable because not many would choose to share a bathroom with 11 others.  One of those dorm-mates, Doris Gethmann Kalvig, who now lives in Blackduck, Minnesota, has offered to add a chapter to this account just to share some of the things that happened while we were becoming responsible young women.

In addition to inconveniences, the Director of Nursing lived on the floor below us, and she was an interesting person. She was a very proper maiden lady from England, and had her own opinion of men. I admit that I was naive and knew only some basic principles of morality, but her initial lecture opened all our eyes and sent us scurrying to our dictionaries. She used words we had never heard before- or since. Although my memory may have faded a little in intervening years, Ron and I agree that our curfew on weekdays was 9:00, and on weekends 10:00. There was a common room where we could entertain our friends. Ron and I were dating steadily by then and when he came to see me, we became accustomed to the director appearing in the common room at one minute before curfew, strongly suggesting that it was time for him to leave.

We had begun talking about marriage and agreed to wait until I had graduated. A major crisis in my family changed our thinking in several ways. Mom had a severe heart attack at Christmas-time, 1957, and was in and out of the hospital until late spring. Throughout that time there were many crises when she was not expected to live.

While Mom was in the hospital, Ron talked to Dad about our marrying. Dad talked to Mom and they gave us their blessing. We became engaged in January, 1958, and were married on October 10, 1959. The minister who performed the ceremony was George Snyder who has remained our good friend. George, originally from Murray, was related to several Osceola people - Ruby Franck was one- and had married several couples who became our good friends: Elvin and Twyla Soll and Bill and Mary Hill. He had served in Leon but had been appointed to Montezuma at the time of our wedding. Congregations had to accept the fact that when George became their pastor, they also had to accept his goats. His son was allergic to cow's milk so goats were a constant in that family's life.

Our first home was in Sherman Hills before it was considered the place to live. The company Ron worked for sent him to Michigan for advanced classes, so he was gone most of the time until Christmas. I had graduated in September before we were married in October, and I worked at Methodist Hospital.

Ron completed his schooling and began servicing office machines throughout southern Iowa and northern Missouri. One of the customers was Clarke County State Bank in Osceola at the time when Ralph McGee was president. He encouraged us to move here which we did in December, 1959. There was no available housing so we moved into Blue Haven Motel. We lived in the two-story building in a kitchenette unit until an apartment was completed in a house Roy and Amy Edwards were building on South Jackson. We have always been very grateful to Ralph and Marie McGee for looking after us when we came here. They helped us get acquainted, find a church, and even came to the house to visit us when Mark was born. People who extend such courtesies to new people in a community are greatly appreciated!

One of the bank employees, Ross Gould, invited us to "Supper Club" which was a monthly social gathering in the basement of the old Methodist Church on the comer of South Main and West Cass Streets. It was unique! Couples brought children so ages ranged widely. There were no lessons, no projects - people just came together to enjoy the food and one another. Among them were Glen and Maurine Poore, Fred and Dorothy DeHaan, Ross and Ruth Gould, Joe and Francelia Reynolds, Cliff and Fern Underwood, Noel and Alice Friday, Cecil and Jean Davenport, and others.

George Pennington was the Methodist pastor in 1960. The parsonage was sold at that time and he and Minerva lived across the hall from us in Edwards' apartment house. We were a little uncertain about living across the hall from a minister but George was something else! One April Fool's Day he tied a rope around our doorknob and fastened the other end to the banister, then rang our doorbell and went back to his apartment. On another occasion he asked me to boil all the eggs he could find in their refrigerator then told Minerva that he was hungry for fried eggs. Would she fix them that way for breakfast? Ron had won a White Mountain electric ice cream freezer. We made ice cream often, putting the freezer in the bathtub in order not to get ice on the floor. George could always hear it and would stand outside our door and yell, "Minerva, wouldn't you like to have some ice cream?" and she would call back, "We could always go to the Dairy Queen."

In those days it was not unusual for transients to come to the church to ask for help. George never gave them money but invited them to come to their home for a meal, which Minerva fixed willingly. That made a great impression on us. We lived in that apartment for 2 ½ years and they figure strongly in our good memories. George has been gone for some years but we are still in touch with Minerva and attended her 90th birthday party.

Mark was born October 17, 1960. I had begun working at Clarke County Hospital when we moved to town, and I continued full time until then. After his birth I worked part time in the evenings so that Ron could sit with Mark. Yvonne Perry was the hospital administrator and, when she was short of nurses or needed someone to work the graveyard shift; I filled in, continuing as a working mom. I worked on an on-call basis for Verlin Bums after he purchased the local ambulance service from Webster Funeral Home. I was the first nurse consultant for the Clarke County Homemaker Home Health Aide Service. I went then to Clarke County Public Health and from there to South Central Iowa Community Action Head Start. In 1973 there was an opening for a school nurse at the junior-senior high school when Evah Crawford, later to become Mrs. Larry Hagie, retired. I remain in that position today.

In 1962 we learned of homes which were factory built with the dealer digging the basement. We bought one for ourselves in the summer of that year and put it on a lot on South Lincoln Street. The house could be set on the lot in one day but in our case we didn't get the shingles on and it rained all night long. Fortunately there was no damage except to one bedroom in which the wall had to be repainted. Later Ron and his dad built on a carport. Lincoln Street was not paved at that time which presented a few challenges. Mark learned to ride his bike on the gravel.

By the time Ron terminated his employment with Burroughs in 1964, he had the responsibility for repair of machines in six counties in Iowa and Missouri. That meant many hours on the road so, when Mark was four years old, Ron bought an old Ford to provide transportation for Mark and me to run errands and attend activities. It suited us well.

Mindy was born May 2, 1966. She taught us a new way to think of babyhood. Mark had been a happy, contented child who liked to chase butterflies and bunnies, and whose behavior was well beyond the norm for five- to six-year-olds. Mindy was inquisitive and a climber. Picking her off countertops and the refrigerator became daily routine. The medicine chest had a particular attraction for her and whereas few parents ever have needed to buy more than one bottle of Syrup of Ipecac to induce vomiting, we replenished our supply each week. Mark had a Siamese cat, Boots, that used to lie in bed with him to take naps; but once Mindy was mobile, she had him dressed in doll clothes, riding in a baby buggy. He took it well for awhile but when he tired of the ride in his ruffley bonnet; he would jump out and hide where she couldn't find him. We notice now that our grandson, Nathan, is like Mark; Matthew is like Mindy.

After Ron terminated his employment with Burroughs, he worked for Burt Paul for a year in his Modern Office Equipment business. In 1967 Ron bought the building at 115 North Main Street and went into business for himself. He needed help and Louella Shipwright, who babysat for us, offered to help out. Louella was the mother of former Osceola resident, Gene (Mrs. Bill) Myers. Louella was widowed at the time she worked for us. Her husband had formerly owned a theater in Osceola. She was like a grandmother to our kids, who called her Aunt Lou. In 1978 we stopped to see her on a trip to Las Vegas, Nevada, and California. We saw Disneyland and toured everything from the LaBrea Tar Pits to the community of Sovang, which Louella particularly wanted us to see. It is up in the mountains and replicates Danish communities in such detail that you can imagine you are in Denmark. The Santa Barbara Mission was especially memorable. It was operated by monks who provided a place for travelers to stay if they needed those services. Louella worked at our store in Osceola nearly three years and was followed by Barbara Gunderson, Ethel Tangeman, Jack Williams, and Helen Cottrell We enjoyed them all and they became, as Louella had become, like family.

All the while the children were growing up we did lots of camping. In the beginning we had a fold-down camper and later graduated to a travel trailer. As my family had done, we went to state parks to camp and fish. We finally decided we didn't enjoy it enough to continue, so we sold the trailer and bought a boat that we used locally and at the Lake of the Ozarks. We swam, water skied, and sledded, often with other families, particularly the Dean Jeters, Duane Younts, and Kenny Lynns. The Tidgrens, who had lived here while she taught in the elementary school system and he was employed as a professional photographer, moved to the Lake of the Ozarks. They built and operated- and still operate- a resort where we have often gone.

Many times, Bill and Mary Hill joined us at the lake. Osceola United Methodists who have been associated with the church for some time will remember Mary. She served as the church secretary for a short time and organist for a longer period. She also gave organ and piano lessons. Bill later found employment in Columbia, Missouri. They now live in St. Louis and we meet them from time to time at the lake.

Wick homes became very popular and over the course of his time with them, Ron put up 24 homes, including one for Fern Underwood as well as others in Murray, Osceola, and Prescott, and in Decatur, Lucas, Warren and Clarke counties. In 1978 Ron's sales had earned a week's trip to Hawaii for two, so we took advantage of that. Finally, after more than 24 years, the start of new homes decreased and Ron found other employment.

Ron was a part-time security guard at Jimmy Dean Meat Company, and for eight years he held a position as weekend security guard at Calvin Manor, an upscale home for retired persons in Des Moines. During that period, in 1986, he accepted a position as office machine service technician at Des Moines public schools and remains there at the present time.

Having driven a Clarke Community School bus for 10 years, Ron decided to assume a part-time position driving a commuter motor coach for Five Oak Charter Bus Company in Des Moines. For nine years he drove a commuter route from Indianola to Des Moines then changed to the present route from Osceola to Des Moines. This works well with his position at the Des Moines schools.

From the Student Chief

The following article appeared in the Student Chief section of the Osceola Sentinel of January 13, 2000. It was entitled "Two cases of cancer touch many lives." Subtitle: "School nurse and former Clarke student tell of aggressive diseases." Permission was asked of and granted by advisor, Mrs. Jan Rychnosky, to reprint the portion about Virginia in Recipes for Living, Book 5. The article was well written by Katey Burgus, Kylie McDonough, and Kayla Utley. Virginia truly gives a "recipe for living."

What is IBC: Cancer, in one way or another, affects many people in our school. The school nurse, Mrs. Virginia Ogan, is one of two people who have been diagnosed with cancer. She has been diagnosed with Inflammatory Breast Cancer. John Domina, a 1999 graduate, was diagnosed with testicular cancer.

Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC) is a rare form of cancer. Compared to all other types of breast cancer only one or two percent of those infected get IBC, according to the American Cancer Society (ACS). The ACS also says it is domineering and rapid growing. There are many different medical treatments that can help a person, suffering from cancer, go into remission. Chemotherapy and radiation are the most commonly used treatments for cancer patients. The ACS mentioned that only two percent of the patients who have IBC live.

Since cancer is passed through maternal genes, the daughter is at a high risk of inheriting it only if her mother had the cancer at a young age. Both Ogan's grandmothers had cancer, though she can't recall what type they had. Her father's mother lived long enough to see Mark and Mindy, Ogan's two children.

Diagnosis: On September 24, 1999, Ogan was sitting in her office when the phone rang. She answered, and it was her doctor. (She had just seen the doctor the previous day for a yearly mammogram.) He had diagnosed her with the cancer. After receiving the news Ogan immediately went into the state of shock. She was angry and, at the same time, thought that this would never happen to her. "All of my life," Ogan said, "I have been a pretty healthy person." She experienced the following symptoms: hot, itchy, and orange colored skin. It never really occurred to her that there was a possibility of it being cancer. At first, when she noticed the symptoms, she thought it was an irritation from the robe she had purchased.

Treatments: Ogan began her treatments following her diagnosis in late September. At the beginning, her chemotherapy sessions lasted an hour and a half. Now they extend to five hours. Ogan started chemotherapy on September 17 after the doctor confirmed that she had IBC. Chemotherapy is supposed to shrink the size of the cancer, so that surgery can take place. If they hadn’t shrunk it, when they performed surgery, the cancer would have spread. If that were to happen the only option would be to send her home and let her live her life as best she could. She receives chemo every three weeks, sees the surgeon every week, and the radiation is yet to come.

The radiation will start near the first of February. She is concerned about the cancer being on her left side, because the radiation could affect her heart. Since the chemo kills bad cells, it also kills some of the good cells. That means that she can catch any type of sickness easily. The chemo is also killing her hair cells, which means that all of her hair will eventually fall out. The chemo makes her nauseous, and the doctor gave her medication for this.

She has another treatment of chemo some time in January. Six weeks after chemo, her hair will start to grow back. The doctor told Ogan that her last treatment will be sometime in the spring. There are still active cancer cells in her body so she's not sure how long she could be in remission.

Family: Ogan's family was worried when given the bad news. Since her children live so far away, their major concern was that they wouldn't be close enough when she needed them. Ogan's husband, Ron, has been very helpful throughout all this. He’s been with her whenever she needed him before and after surgery. He was also there to take her to her appointments and bring her home after her treatments.

Her oldest son, Mark, has been back from Tulsa, Oklahoma, with six-year-old son, Nathan, and three-year-old Matthew. "The only thing my grandkids are worried about is my hair falling out from the chemotherapy." Her daughter, Mindy, who is also from Tulsa, has been home several times since Ogan's prognosis. She came to Iowa for eight days to be with her mother after the surgery.

Giving Thanks: Not only her family, but her friends at school has been by her side throughout the whole process. "The faculty at the school has been great and very supportive," stated Ogan about her co-workers. "Bev Edwards has been very helpful and understanding about filling in for me."

Ogan has been in good spirits throughout the whole process. She has deep faith and believes that the Lord is on her side to help her overcome the cancer. "Every new day is a gift," stated Ogan.

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Last Revised August 26, 2012