A bit about Stan & his parents.

8/20/13

Wow! It's been so long since I've been on here I don't know what I've written about--have to take time (not right now) to read my blog myself.

I've been wanting to get back at it, partly because I've mostly written about my family and my own stores and would like to share a bit of what I know of Stan's life. Of course I don't know as much as I'd like about his family and I may leave out a thing or 2 of the things that I do know.

He was born and lived the first few years of his life in Chehalis, WA. I believe this picture of him, his dad, Cliff, and dog, Tony was taken there. It must have been a special occasion as I don't think I've ever seen a man using a shovel while wearing a suit. I believe Tony was the first in a long list of dogs Stan loved. Except for when he was in the service, I don't think there was ever a time that he didn't have at least one canine. Actually they owned him rather than the other way around. (I used to joke with him about what choice he would make if his dog and I were in danger and he could only save one of us. I'm still not 100% sure that he meant it when he said it would be me. ;-)   

Cliff was a sign painter and had his own sign shop in Chehalis. During WW2 they moved to West Seattle and Cliff helped paint the roof of the Boeing plant so that it looked like part of a city instead of a factory. Cliff was a very well-respected and active businessman in the W. Seattle community, having opened a sign shop there after the war. Unfortunately, while installing a sign, it fell, hit him on the head and gave him a severe concussion. I understand that he was in a lot of pain for an extended period of time; he died as an indirect result of the concussion as he developed pneumonia.

Cliff died in 1950 just before Stan turned 15. For some reason Stan & his only sibling, his brother Dick, who is 9 1/2 years younger were not only not allowed to see their dad while in the hospital, but they never got to see him after his demise nor were they allowed to attend his funeral. Instead they were "shipped off" to live with cousins in Aijulin(?) a community that was later flooded to build a dam. Neither Stan nor Dick had any good memories of that time--of course Dick was only around 5, so he can't remember much of it and Stan was so unhappy that I think he blanked a lot of it out.

His mother Lola was, as I understand it, an officer with the Boeing Credit Union. Of course, at that time only Boeing employees were allowed to belong. Unfortunately she married a not-so-nice German man within a relatively short amount of time. Will not go into much detail about not-so-nice, but he was with his "future wife" when Lola died in the hospital and his later wife got many of the things, such as china, crystal, money, etc., that Cliff & Lola had worked so hard for.

Lola was a breast cancer survivor, but died of lung cancer, even though she never smoked a day in her life.

Prior to Cliff's death Stan had been an A student, but his grades dropped sharply and he eventually dropped out of school. 

There was a neighbor that got Stan interested in electronics, so Stan joined the Army and got into Signal School where he became quite proficient at them.

If you're reading this, you can see that it's not necessarily in chronological order, but my mind doesn't necessarily go in a straight line.

I've always liked this picture of Stan & his mother; it's quite obvious from the expressions on both of their faces that he was in BIG trouble. Evidently someone, with a camera, was on the sidewalk taking pictures of people as they were walking along. The photographer then stopped them, got their address and somehow made arrangements to send the picture. That was long before the days of digital cameras and emails, so there needed to be a bit of trust.

I know it wasn't here, but as with most boys, Stan did a few things that he was rightly in trouble for, such as taking one of his mother's new sheets off of the clothesline and making a sail for his boat with it; taking the motor from the dryer and attaching it to her sewing machine, so that when she pressed the kneepad, the needle went like the wind; and my favorite was when he was about 10 or 12, he sailed from W. Seattle to Vashon Island. A storm came up, so he spent the night on Vashon without his mother having any idea if he was safe. I'd have probably been so relieved to see him had I been her, that I would have beat him to death for scaring me so badly. Fortunately he was safe & I don't know what any of his punishments were.