Recipes for Living Glenda Willson Wishon

A fascinating aspect of writing a life story is realizing the incidents or situations we remember and those we forget. It is surely good that we forget some. My earliest memory goes back to when I was two or three years old. We lived in California where my father was ordained as a minister in the Christian (Disciples of Christ) Church. Mom had been married before, so I have a full brother, Del, seven years older than I, and a half sister, Helen Shaffstall. I was her son's aunt when I was 12 days old. When I was two or three years old, we lived on Garvey Avenue, Baldwin Park, California. My first memory is of having hair in blond ringlets, and walking through the yard in a beautiful dress that someone crocheted for me. I wore that later when we lived in Missouri and I was a bride's flower girl.

Dad was called to preach in Barnard, Missouri. We rode the train from California to Missouri and that was fun, but when we arrived in Barnard, the snow was very deep and it was so cold- bad for a California girl. Barnard is close to King City and Stanberry, not far from St. Joe. Barnard is not a very big town, about the size of Murray. We moved from Barnard to Island City, which is also a very small town close to Stanberry. There was nothing but a church, school, and a grocery store. I really loved this town. We lived on a farm, and I had a horse, Bird, and a dog, Ring. We had to leave both of them when we returned to California in a few years. I still think about them. My friends, brother Del, and I rode horses all the time. We had so much fun! In the winter, Dad would harness them to a sled and take us on rides through the pastures. I loved it!

I started to school in Island City. I remember walking to school approximately two miles. We walked with the neighbors, the Browns, four boys older than me. They did something to me one day - I don't remember what, but I beat them up. We weren't allowed to walk together any more. I was tough. My first boyfriend was there. We were ornery little kids, and he was the Tom Sawyer type. I picture freckles, and overalls with one strap. No one had money. It was great. We still go to that town once in awhile. Town? There is nothing left there but the church, which is very active. The last time we went, Larry fell down the stairs. He didn't know they were there and went ker-womp! It was a good thing he wasn't hurt because I could never have gotten us home. We have looked and looked for the cemetery in that town.

I had a really good friend. Sometimes I'd sleep over and we would lie in bed at night and listen to the crickets. She was ·one of three kids in their family and their mother was a typical farm wife. While most people might look at their house and think it was nothing, I'd like to have one just like it. There was no air conditioning, probably not even any fans. On Sundays there was food everywhere and the wonderful aroma of bread and rolls baking. There would be fried chicken, mashed potatoes, roasting ears, and tomatoes. There was always something extra for the preacher. There were chickens, maybe hogs, maybe cows. I don't seem to remember those, but I remember the kitchen with its huge table!

We played down at their creek and swung on the vines. Del and their boys were about the same age and we'd all go horseback riding. We didn't have saddles, and we had braided twine for reins. I can remember being drug off the horse when we were riding under low hanging branches of the trees. I also remember one time when I fell off my horse. I went out to the field to get her. I don't know why but I put a chain around her neck, and a chain around mine. Coming back to the house, I fell off and I couldn't get loose. The horse drug me to the house. She didn't run, she just walked. I was underneath her but she didn't step on me - scared my mother to death.

In Island City, we lived in a two story house. One time Del got mad at me. He was not very tall but heavy, and there wasn't much I could do to him. But I ran upstairs, and locked the door of the room where he was. I don't know why he didn't beat on the door, but he didn't. In awhile we sat down to eat and Dad said, "Where's Del?" Just at that moment, he jumped out of the upstairs window and went flying past where we were sitting. I said, "There he is." That was the funniest thing I ever saw.

We moved back to California where Dad worked in a hardware store. I didn't like California. I remember at Christmas, I would always buy Mom handkerchiefs in a pretty box and Dad after-shave every year.

When Dad was called back to Missouri, we went to Cainsville. I loved it there! So many things happened that it is home! Dad had a circuit at that time and preached at the Christian Church in Cainsville, Eagleville, Blythdale, and Honey Creek Chapel. One Easter, Dad conducted a pageant which he called the "World in Creation." It was wonderful! I believe the spot lights were from the St. Jo Army camp. At any rate, they were very bright and were shone on each of the scenes. Dad used live people and horses, and the pageant took in the entire Bible, from the beginning of life to Moses leading the people out of Israel, to theNew Testament with Jesus and Pilate, through the crucifixion, resurrection, including Jesus' ascension. I actually think the crosses are still there. It was a community project. There were five churches in town and the wives of all the ministers worked on the costumes. Kids were in it. One year Larry and I played Adam and Eve. It was performed every year and literally thousands of people came. I still have a tape of it but I've never played it. I can't bear to hear Dad's voice.

It started as an Easter Pageant but it was often too cold for people to sit in their cars so they moved it to August. One year it hadn't rained for ever and ever. We needed rain but we didn't particularly want it the night of the pageant. Dad always invited guest ministers to give the opening prayer. That year the fellow prayed for rain. I think we got two scenes over when it began to rain. It rained like you wouldn't believe.

When I was in 6th grade Mother had a stroke and instead of going to a hospital, she went to a friend's house for about a month. She must have been paralyzed on her right side because she couldn't write very well. Her doctor told her she could go home when she could say Hrdlickica, which was the name of a family who lived there. She recovered from that stroke enough to help take care of our son, Randy, when he was born.

I met Larry in Cainsville, one night in 1958. The Cainsville square was absolutely full every Saturday night. Stores were open, the movie was going and everybody was around to enjoy it. One Saturday night, I came around the comer at the same time he and a couple friends were coming the other way. He had long sideburns, and his pants worn low like the fellows were doing at that time. From then on I'd see him every once in awhile and think how cute he really was. We didn't have any contact until another friend and I went to Pleasanton on July 4th. Larry and his brother were riding around. I don't know where or why but we jumped in the car with them and rode around. My friend, Ruth, saw a fellow she knew and wanted to go with, so she said, "Come on, let's go." Larry said, ''No, Glenda can stay here."

That was the beginning. I wasn't really supposed to go with him so we would tell Dad I was going to the free fair at Blythdale or somewhere, and ride around. We were married in 1960, and I quit school. Larry and I moved to Mercer, Missouri, and lived in an apartment. I was so shy around people that I didn't go to the post office, and they had to send all our mail back to Cainsville. I am still shy.

Randy was born in Mercer, Missouri, February 15, 1962, and I was sent home two hours after delivery. We went to Mom and Dad's and stayed a week or so. When Joni was born, we lived in a three-room house, but I loved it. I'd live there again. However, on the day she chose to come, December 6, 1963, the house was so cold! It not only didn't have running water, it didn't have water. There was a well but the water was not useable, so we had to go to the well behind the neighbor's house to get it. I remember carrying that water to the house when I was nine months pregnant. That was the day Joni was born. We came home in an hour and I carried her in the house. She cried the whole night. I finally put her on her stomach, which I didn't know I wasn't supposed to do, and she went sound asleep, and believe me, I went sound asleep, too!

Randy's escapades began early. When he was about 23 months old or slightly older, Dad used fuel oil to clean his fishing poles. It was sitting on the floor in ajar. We went down to visit him and Randy picked up the jar and drank it. I know he came close to dying. I laid him on the bed and his breathing was terrible! Dad called the hospital and they told us to get him right over there so they could pump his stomach. I picked him up and he did the worst thing he could have done. He vomited all over me. Bringing it back up is as dangerous as when it goes down. He survived, obviously, even when later he drank bleach. He has a terrible stomach as a result of that.

He has so many scars because he was always cut up. One time he and Joni turned their bicycles upside down and got the wheels going as fast as they could.. He grabbed the chain, which took his thumb into the sprocket. It came close to cutting it off He came in the house screaming, with blood spurting out. We wrapped it in towels and got him to Princeton to the hospital. It took six or seven of us to hold him down while they sewed him up. Another time, he was on top of a pickup with his hands over the side and they shut the door. There went his thumb. We went back to Princeton and all the way he screamed, "They are not going to sew me up! They are not going to sew me up." They didn't. They taped it. But it seemed like when he was playing, he was always jumping into stuff with his arms up. Sometimes his landing area was broken glass. He was a
tough one! The only thing Joni was hurt by was when she stepped behind the swing and it got her! She used to cut her hair and wear my hose, not particularly dangerous stunts.

Dad tried to interest my children in horses. We didn't carry on that tradition when we were in Cainsville, but Dad had some for our kids. Mom and Dad lived about three houses up the hill from the last house where we lived in Cainsville, and Dad had Shetlands in the back yard. That was allowed in those days. But nobody got attached to them. They must have been a little mean.

While we were still in Missouri, I knew I wanted to finish my schooling, so in 1975, when Randy graduated from 8th grade in the morning, I graduated from high school the same night.

In 1962, Larry began working in concrete for Bethany Falls Concrete at Bethany Falls, Missouri. He moved to Osceola March 1, 1975, when the company purchased the Marshall Warren Cement Plant. He continued working until the 1980s, when they sold to Central Paving, then V.O. He now works for Manatts in Johnston. He obviously has been in cement work a long time and has come a long way. He's the hardest worker I've ever seen in my life. He never stops, then wonders why he's tired. He is still the most wonderful man I've ever met.

In 1976, when Larry was transferred to Osceola to work for Ready Mix, we moved here. I had never worked, but at that time I applied at the Nursing Home north of town. It was no trouble getting a job. I did and it made me sicker than a dog. They told me I'd never have to clean anyone up, but the first day that is all I did. I lasted a whole month and I quit because I couldn't stand it. I went to work at Miller Products on their big machines. I lasted a month there, went back to the nursing home and fell in love with it. I worked there several years and decided I'd like to go to nursing school. In a year I became an LPN (Licensed Practical Nurse.) I took the EMT (Emergency Medical Technician) course and worked on the ambulance for awhile. I think I came out with a 1/D which meant defibulator, which they don't have now in that course. When I started working for Dr. Lower, it was too hard to be up all night working on the ambulance and then going to work all day, so I had to give that up.

I started working for Doc 22 ½ years ago. This year he put an ad in the paper thanking me and lots of people took that to be the announcement of my retiring. I appreciated all the expressions by phone calls, cards, and in person indicating people weren't ready for me to retire. I have a pretty good time there, lots of fun. He is a great boss and has a wonderful wife. Doc and Ceree are two of my best friends.

In 1982, I was in a car wreck. It was on a Saturday. Joni had just finished her first year at Iowa State and we had an appointment with Dr. Good for some kind of medical treatment. We drove past where we were to be and he wasn't there, so we rode out to East Lake. There was a car behind us. I know exactly where I turned on the light to signal I was going to turn, I can still see the spot. I started to turn, and just then the car behind me began to pass. Going 60 miles per hour, it came in my door, and threw me across the front seat. I broke the gear shift with my pelvis. Joni had a cut on her face. I remember her screaming in my ear. I don't remember the impact. I don't remember any of that but from her screaming, I thought, "We've had a wreck!" I sat up and I remember somebody saying, "Glenda, quit moving!" I didn't know why. I knew I hurt a little bit.

From then on, I have snatches of recollection. I remember a God-awful noise! They threw something over my head and I was trapped. They were cutting me out with the 'jaws of life." They lifted me out. ..Red McKimpson was brushing me. He said, "I don't want you to think I am getting fresh. I am getting the glass off you." I laughed and assured him I didn't think that - people all around, cars lining the highway, lights of the patrol car. I got a glimpse of the car - our brand new Mustang, and thought it would take weeks to fix it. But we were going to supper in Des Moines that night. I thought I'd probably ought to tell Larry. Then I was in the ambulance. I patted Joni's hand and said, "It's going to be okay, honey."

I don't remember another thing until they put me on the x-ray table. That hurt so bad! Dean Chaney was there and I hung onto him for dear life! My pelvis was broken in four places, front and back. The ribs were broken and had gone through the lung. I had a concussion. I remember saying to Dr. Good, "Of course, this was your fault." What a terrible thing to say! He said, "I'm sorry." Dr. Wilken came to help and I thought that was so nice of him. One of the male nurses, Dale Jones, told me he was going to give me a shot. I said, "I'll turn over," he said, "No," and I said, "You're not going to give it to me in my leg." He said, "I'll have to." And he gave me a shot of Demerol.

Larry got there and I said, "I'm sorry, it's not my fault." He was beside himself and told me it was all right. I said, "You've got to go home and turn the dryer off" It was not working properly and had to be manually turned off. He did. I remember not wanting to go to Des Moines because that meant it was really serious, but I went. In the ambulance, I had oxygen and I broke something. I'm not sure what it was, but something broke. That is the only thing about the trip I remember.

When I got there they told me, 'You are going to see Dr. Mouw. He will be your doctor." I pictured a small fellow and he is huge, and the most wonderful doctor! I was in the emergency room. They inserted a big needle into my stomach to see if my spleen and other organs were bleeding. Oh, that hurt! I remember them taking me up to intensive care and they said, "Look, Glenda, you've got a television." That is all I remember. I was out! My leg would fall off the bed. I couldn't even put it back.

I don't remember how long I was in the hospital up there. I remember Dr. Mouw saying, "We'll transfer you back to Clarke County." People were wonderful! They put me on morphine which made me violent. I would call down and tell Larry they had me in a cow chute and were shipping me out. One Sunday I had lots of company. People came even from Cainsville. I must have been acting okay but when they all left, I said to Joni, "Come here. See that gun up there on the wall?" She said, "No." I said, "Yes, that one right there. Squint and you can see it. I want it." She tried to convince me I was looking at the TV, but I knew what I saw and I wanted it!

When I came back down to Osceola, people came to see me. I'd get tickled about something and laugh. Oh! That hurt. People told me that when the ribs stop hurting, they stop hurting, and that is right. That is what happens. They sent me home with a walker, and that night with Joni's help, I got in the bathtub. My left leg was as black as coal. I slid down into the tub, put it up on the wall, and the color came back, but it swelled and it hurt! Finally Larry had had it, took me to the emergency room, and they told me I had a blood clot, which I already knew. So I was back in the hospital for which I was glad. Later, the clot started hurting again and I had another stay in the hospital. The clot is still there but it doesn't bother.

In 1984, Larry built our house on Pearl Street, catty corner from the Catholic Church. We moved in on December 26, 1984. I love the house (would love an acreage better). I have a yard full of flowers. Larry built a pond in the front yard, and we have a gazebo. It's a nice place.

We have now lived in Osceola for 30 years. Larry grew up in the Baptist Church, but he joined the Christian Church with me many years ago. Both of us are Deacons. Larry is head of the property committee. I joined the Eastern Star when we lived in Missouri. I've been Worthy Matron down home. I belong here but don't attend. We have lots and lots of wonderful friends. That makes life worth living. I don't see how anyone can live without friends.

We had two beautiful children, grown now, of course. Randy lives here in town, married to Ronda Muller, and they gave us two wonderful grandchildren, Drew and Grant. Randy went into the Marines where he became an Embassy Guard in Saudi Arabia and Vienna. We are so proud of him! He now has his own business. Randy's family is in Recipes for Living, Volume 6, 2001. (My brother Del was also in military service. He was an Army nurse in Viet Nam, but he doesn't talk about it.)

Joni lives in Pasadena, California, is married to Rick and they have Matthew, who is a doll. Our grandchildren are all very intelligent. Joni is a Trauma Nurse at Huntington Memorial Hospital and loves her job. She is a wonderful daughter and we are very lucky to have her.

We are beginning to look toward retirement. Larry says he wants to retire but I can't imagine him doing that. When it happens, I want to live in the country and have horses. Larry wants a tractor and I tell him he can have one when I get my farm.

The best of all worlds would be to have a acreage not far out of town. Oh, the peace! I would put on it an old house- I don't want a new house, or one with an upstairs. I would be thrilled with just an old farm house and a barn for the "girls. We have ''Red," whose full name is Suzan Dan Duzan. We got her at Melrose, Iowa, a place somebody Larry knew, knew about. She is beautiful, she really is. She has the prettiest face. I rode a lot last fall but then we had her bred, so she was gone for awhile. Now she is so big I can't get the girth under her. She's due in March.

Our yearling is Summerset Girl, a spoiled rotten little brat. In naming her, I came up with "Summer" and Gavin and Justin Jones came up the "set" and "Girl." Their father is part owner. We could ride Summer in a year, but we will wait until she is two because the knees aren't developed until then. The new baby will have to be trained, or broke. That will be interesting. The new one can race at the age of two, because jockeys weigh so little. I'm heavier than they are by a long shot. They will take her about the age Summer is now and train her for racing. My husband said, "I suppose that means we will have to go there every week." He loves them to pieces. He feeds them in the morning and I feed at night. On weekends we both do.

We have three dogs Bailey Lynn, a smooth collie, Sammy Jo, and Lucky Lou. Sammy and Lucky adopted us. Sammy is a dingo and so old he won't ever make it to move with us. He had been highly abused when we got him. No one but I could even touch him for years. He would come and eat and sleep with the other dogs and then he'd be gone. I didn't know he was there for years, but now he is with us all the time. Lucky Lou is a little girl about 1 ½ years old. I would see her running behind people's houses all over town. We were walking behind Belva White's house one night with the boys (Bailey and Sammy) and she followed us. She stayed and stayed, and that was how she got her name. She's "Lucky she landed where she did." She was just little, but we took her to Fred (Wood) and he spayed her and gave her shots. If it weren't for Fred, I don't know what we would do. He's a great guy, a great vet, and a great friend. Lucky is the sweetest dog - so smart. If we stop, she sits. She does have two problems. She likes to dig holes, and she is staying in the yard now that we've gotten an invisible collar for her. She hates it! It gives a very light shock but it scares her.

That's my life except for Tucker Jo, JJ (Juan Jose), Squirt Butt, and Baxter Black. Squirt was so little when I rescued her. I had gone to the little bank on the corner. As I was coming back, I heard this little "meow," and a pickup was heading right toward her! I ran and grabbed her, and she snuggled up to my neck. Of course I had to take her home, but she had diarrhea so bad, and that is where she got her name.

We got Baxter when RAGBRAI was here. I went around the corner on my way to the post office, and I heard a little meow. I went on, got the mail, and came back. I still could hear it. I parked over by the old hotel, got out, and here was the kitten right in front of a tire. The people were just ready to drive away and I said, "Is this your cat?" They said, "No!" I said, "Come here, kitty," and that cat ran to me. I took him home and said, "Larry, don't worry about him. He will be an outside cat." We had people in RAGBRAI staying with us. They put a sign on the door, "Kitten Inside," and they just played and played with it. They were so nice. The cat never stayed outside.

We bought Tucker and JJ. They are Siamese, brothers, six months apart. JJ was five weeks old, white, when Larry brought him home. He fit in the palm of a hand. He is now about six years old, weighs 22 pounds, and is black. We love them all and when they die, we are really sad! We have a pet cemetery in our back yard now.