JO ANN WILSON

I was born in New Virginia on October 24, 1935, to Lloyd and Helen Cronin Wilson. I never knew my grandmother on my mother's side or my grandfather on my dad's side. The widow and widower were both single parents. Dad's father, my grandfather, died in 1909, when my dad and his twin brother were only seven months old. They didn't really know what caused his death but thought it possibly was cancer.

He was quite a bit older than my grandmothers He had been married before and had other children, who were practically the same age as my grandmother. I remember she and one of his older daughters were so close I always thought they were sisters. I didn't realize it was step-mother and step-daughter. That set of children were all older and away from home when the father died.

His death left my grandmother with six children to raise — my uncle Frank, who I think was 12, three girls — Mae, Norma and Ila, and the twins. He was a doctor but back in those days doctors were paid with farm produce — chickens, eggs, and things like that, so when he died, there was no income. My aunts, who were old enough to remember, said there were some outstanding bills, which people might have paid with money, but when Grandpa died, they sort of forgot that.

So my grandmother raised her children by doing laundry and wall papering for people. Of course, they didn't have electricity and the type washing machine they had was one with a lever to push back and forth to make the clothes rotate. Dad remembered one of his first jobs was doing the laundry pushing that lever. A very fortunate thing for them was that my grandfather belonged to an organization. I don't know the name, but there was obviously a great sense of fraternity, because someone from New Virginia went around to local members and those in neighboring communities to collect money for the family's benefit. They raised enough to buy the house for Grandmother to live in. It was a four-room house which I think is still standing in New Virginia.

All my aunts and uncles are gone now. Dad's twin was the last to go. He died about a year after my dad died. They had nicknames for the twins. Dad was Slim, his twin was Uncle Short. My grandmother Wilson never remarried, raised the children alone, saw them all through high school, going on to become good, honest people, each earning a good living. Grandma Wilson was a wonderful woman. Sometimes there is a negative connotation when people talk about children raised by single parents, but that isn't a new or necessarily bad situation.

My mother's childhood, as well, was not without tragedy. She was next to the youngest of 11 children. Two died in infancy but there were nine who lived. My aunt was the baby, only a few months old, Mother was three years old, when their mother died of tuberculosis. This was my grandmother. Veronica, was the oldest of the kids left at home. She and my grandfather took care of the other children until she turned 18, when she left to go into nurses' training. That was when my grandfather hired a girl to help take care of the eight children left at home. He eventually married her, but it didn't last. She had mental problems to the point the children were actually afraid of her. The family, however, were very close, and although Mother had no memories of her mother, and no good memories of her step-mother, she had fond memories of her father. He was good to her and, in fact, he lived with us for a year before he died. I have good memories of him.

My parents met in high school, and both graduated. Dad went to work for the railroad, which at that time had a little train that went from Osceola to Des Moines twice a day. The route was through Jamison, New Virginia, Truro, St. Mary's and I'm not certain beyond that. In the winter months of 1945, Dad was laid off by the railroad, and was drafted into the Army. He was 37 years old. Sensing that particular rail service would end, before he left for military service Dad made arrangements for us. Mom didn't want a car — she didn't want to think about gasoline and tires and all the responsibilities that went with driving, so Dad moved us to Osceola to be close to grocery stores, doctors, and services available here. We lived on Jackson street by the railroad tracks so we were close to town and school, and even though it was farther, we could walk to St. Bernard's Catholic Church.

There were three of us children. I had one brother, Jack. He was the oldest, four years older than I, then myself, and Linda came along when I was ten. She was born the 23th of February, the year Dad went into the Army on the first of April. I was about 10 and had just finished third grade. Dad was in service from the 1st of April, 1945, and was discharged on December 11 that year. He worked at the Railway Express Office and eventually took his exam for the Post Office. He walked a mail route. They did attempt to provide transportation. They bought the carriers red, white, and blue bicycles that had a small wheel in front and the regular size wheel in back, with a big basket in which to put mail. The first day he rode the bicycle he ran into one of the little pipes that stick up. It threw him off the bicycle. He walked the bicycle back to the post office and never used it again. Later Mom worked at Robinson in the "yard goods" department with Vada Denly.

Dad served one term as Mayor of Osceola. He was proudest of what he accomplished regarding AMTRAK, which according to original plans, was not supposed to stop in Osceola. The stops were to be in Creston and Ottumwa. At that time highway 34 was torn up between Osceola and Creston, so Dad wrote letters explaining that because of the Interstate, people would be coming from Des Moines and going south, and people as far away as Missouri would be coming north, but there really wasn't a good road for travelers to get to Creston. By adding a stop in Osceola people would have access to train travel. It turned out well. Osceola has more people boarding here than any place in Iowa. Dad was pretty pleased with that.

When we moved to Osceola, Jack was a sophomore in high school, I was ready to go into fourth grade, Linda was about two months old. To get to school, we went over the trestle, which were steps constructed to provide passage over a train and down the other side. We used to play on it — going up one side and down the other and had lots of fun, but whenever was the last time I went over it, I was scared. It seemed awfully high. It was taken down in 1971.

I remember when I was in sixth grade, there was a fire in the school. Miss Howard was the Principal of both schools, spending a half day at West Ward and a half day at East. Her office at West Ward was just off the 6th grade room. There was always a student who answered the phone and when that call came in, she came back to the room and whispered something to Miss Howard, who hurried off to ring the fire alarm. The student told us the roof was on fire. As soon as that bell rang, we were up and out of our seats and on our way out of the building. We knew what we were supposed to do — get out of the building, and we did it. We were fairly orderly, as I remember. We knew we weren't to wait for the teacher to lead us out. It shows the importance of drills. It was very cold and Mom came over and invited the 2nd grade class to our house. Later, she got the nicest letter from the teacher, thanking her for doing that.

I remember one of the problems of living so close to the railroad tracks was when Mom would hang out the laundry. Trains in those days gave off a lot of smoke. When one went by, if she had just hung white clothes on the line (no dryers then), she would have to re-wash them. She had to watch and the minute they were dry she would bring them in before another train would go through and she would have to do them over.

I went to the old junior high, South Ward, and high school, which was where North Main Manor is now. When I was a senior in high school, I didn't know what I was going to do. Jim Thomas was our principal. He called me in one day and asked what I was going to do after I graduated from high school. I said I really didn't know. He asked "If you could get a scholarship, could you go on to college?" I said, "I don't know. I don't know if my folks could afford it." When I went home and talked to my folks, my dad said, "If you can get a scholarship, we will give you two years of college." At that time two years of college would qualify for teaching elementary school. I had to go to Chariton to take the exam, which I passed, and after I graduated in 1954, I was able to have two years of college at Cedar Falls.

After my brother, Jack, graduated from high school, he worked for a year, saved his money and also went to Iowa State Teachers' College at Cedar Falls. He went for 1 1/4 years, when he was running out of money. At that time, the Korean War was going on and he enlisted for four years in the Air Force. After he was discharged, he went back to Cedar Falls. He always worked but in addition had financial help because of a provision made by the government — the veterans' rights bill. He was there at the time I started to Cedar Falls, so we were in school together. Those were good years. We didn't have much money but we had fun.

While he was in the service, Jack was stationed for awhile in Peoria, Illinois, where he met and married Joyce Backes. They were expecting their first child when he came back, and they lived in veterans' housing. I lived in a doimitory. Jack was a good student — better student than I, actually. But I always appreciated that my folks never compared us. I never had to live up to Jack's reputation.

That was just one of many principles our parents taught us. Jack, Linda, and I have talked so many times about how fortunate we were to have the parents we did. For one thing, they taught us honesty. An occasion came about during a time when I drove my folks to California to visit Mom's older sister, Marie. We went to Phoenix to visit her brother, and on to California. We had an agreement that we would take turns paying for filling the gas tank. Coming back through Denver, we stopped for gas. It was Dad's turn to pay and he was riding in the back seat. Those were the days when we didn't fill the gas tank ourselves. The attendant did that, cleaned the windshield, and checked oil and tires, if we asked. He filled our tank, Dad handed me the money, which I handed to the attendant. He came back with the change, which I handed to Dad. However, as we pulled out of the station, Dad said, "He gave us too much money." I asked what he wanted me to do. He said, "Go around the block." We circled the block and came back Dad went in and returned the overpayment. That example stuck with me. I used it a lot when I taught honesty.

That trip was a very special experience. I was driving a Ford and it didn't have central air conditioning. It had an air conditioner somebody had installed and it didn't work as well as central air. There were stories of people fastening canvas bags of water on their front bumpers to get them across the desert. We didn't do that, but we tried to go through the desert in the early morning. There was one time when we were getting close to Phoenix and wanted to get there, so we put up with the heat. We are spoiled today. I complained to a cousin who has a car dealership in Cincinnati, about the cost of cars and he said, "Yes, but would you want to do without air conditioning, power steering, and all those things we have gotten used to?" But doing without or "making do" were not unknown to us in those days.

Our folks taught us respect. They both respected their parents so much. Dad dearly loved his mother and Mom felt the same way about her dad. I never heard either one of them say a disrespectful thing about their parents, nor did my brother or sister or I say anything against our parents.

Closeness of family was another thing we were taught by example — not just the immediate family but cousins, aunts and uncles. Some of the good times I remember as kids were family dinners when all the relatives gathered. I am still very close to my cousins. We talk back and forth and get together when we can.

We lived in the right place. Located in the midwest, they could all come here to get together. Dad's family more or less all stayed around Iowa. Norma Mullin eventually moved to Kansas, but they came back a lot or we would go there. Mom's family scattered from Washington, D.C. to California. We were always amazed that her family of nine children, with so much difference in their ages, were so close to one another. That was evident when their father died in 1941, and they all gathered. In 1954, all nine children from California to Washington, D.C. met in Osceola for a two-day family reunion. It was the first time in 30 years all nine children had been together. I'm so glad I still keep in touch with some of the cousins.

I retired in 1997, after 41 years of teaching — always in elementary. I was in the same school for 41 years in Council Bluffs, where I taught fourth grade for eight years, then moved up to 5th grade and continued to teach the 5th grade the rest of those years. I didn't want to go any higher.

I noticed that kids have changed a lot during those years and since. They have been exposed to too many things. Thank goodness there are still a lot of dedicated teachers. I've always been impressed by our East Elementary School. I went there to help with the Vision testing during the last school year and noticed that among the older kids, so many thanked me when I handed the paper back to them! That impressed me.

Our current situation: Jack passed away a few years ago. Linda is Mrs. Bob Denton. My sister-in-law, Joyce, passed away from cancer in 1974. Jack married Mary Lou Flom five years later. Jack and Joyce gave me four nephews and nieces — Dave, Diane, Janet, and Mike. Bob and Linda gave me three nieces and nephews — Laura, Leasa, and Rob. These seven are an important part of my life. I have enjoyed seeing them grow into good, dependable adults, and they are very good to me. They have given me another generation of grand nephews and nieces to enjoy and share their lives. Noah, Kieren, Ethan, Brock, and Grace live in Florida. Ariann, Briele, and Braden live in Waukee, and I treasure the time I spend with these fifteen special people.

My mother passed away in 1981, my father in 1994, and my brother in 2003. I miss them very much, but I'm grateful to have Mary Lou, Linda, Bob and all my nephews and nieces.

I am very happy with my life in Osceola. When I retired in 1997, I returned to Osceola, where Dad had left me a house. I had hoped to come back and take care of him but he passed away before I could retire. I've come to belong here. I am active in my church, I do volunteer work, I drive people to Des Moines for doctors' appointments, I am active in CARSPA (Clarke Area Retired School Personnel Association), Osceola Women's Club, I have started volunteering at the hospital gift shop, I enjoy visiting shut-ins, and I enjoy my friends with whom I have coffee every morning.

Summing up our lives, Jack, Linda, and I all graduated from high school and went on to careers we've enjoyed. Linda has been a very good nurse — she loved nursing. Jack and I enjoyed and loved teaching. My dad made the statement one time about him and Mom, "All three of our kids have more education than we had," and my brother said, "Yes, but you are the two who gave us the incentive to get that education." We were lucky kids. Dad grew up without knowing his father, Mom grew up without knowing her mother, but they made such good parents! We all agree on that.

 

 

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