A Sleuth of Detectives

I forgot to mention that Sun. evening there was $8,000 taken from Clary’s money drawer. This was not the first time money has been missing. This afternoon we had a sleuth of detectives + cops up here investigating + questioning people. They took them all down to jail tonite - our cook, tailor, + Wu. It seems everyone of them were in on it. Wusifu stole the money + Yangsifu was in on it. Tsayfu was promised hush money. Heard the men had all been beaten up pretty much but did confess the theft. A group of elders from the city came up and criticized us for sending them to jail. Have also unearthed a gambling ring - our orphanage teachers. The foreigners are being severely criticized by outsiders + our own people. - Annette, April 1942

As my own pregnancy clicks along, I went back to Annette’s diary to see what she was going through around this time when she was pregnant with my Dad. She was busy working on a baby blanket out of muslin - which, as it turns out, is still in fashion for modern baby blankets. Then, I came upon this story!

Annette was juggling so many things during her second pregnancy. She was taking care of her toddler, helping organize a conference, and making supplies for her new little one. On top of all that, she discovered that her workers had been stealing from them! She trusted her crew to help her keep house and cook for everyone. That must have felt so violating.

Lately, I’ve had a hard time focusing on my own jobs. I’ve always been good at juggling my performing, teaching, volunteering, and everything else. Sometimes, though, I feel like pregnancy has become a new part-time job. There is so much to prepare for, not to mention everything I need to do to stay healthy and take care of myself. But the world keeps moving. It’s always a balancing act, and I would imagine it will continue to be. Rather than constantly staying busy, I suppose we just need to enjoy the slower moments. Maybe we can all slow down a bit and take care of ourselves. You never know when you might uncover a secret gambling ring that sends your neighbors to jail!

Good-Bye

Pa has been to see us twice this year. He is so feeble it makes me feel sad to look at him, and I feel each time I tell him good-bye I shall never see him again. - Frances, January 1891

It’s that time of year again. For me, mid-March is always a bit tough. I wanted to post something last week, but I just couldn’t think of anything to say. There is plenty going on in the world, and in my life, but March 16 always leaves me lacking a voice. Luckily, I came across this post from Frances about her father.

Last week marked the 11th year since my Dad passed away. I try to spend time remembering fun memories and experiences we shared. But inevitably, I remember the difficult parts of his final years. His lack of mobility and loss of vision. His fading memories and labored speech. The way his body failed him a bit more every day. That was the hard part, and it was my reality for a good bit of time. Frances seemed to experience something similar - each time she saw her father, she thought it would be the last.

Maybe this ‘anniversary’ was particularly hard because I’m heading back into a caretaker role (Mama). Maybe it was hard because I am writing about my Grandmother’s experience being pregnant with him. Maybe it’s just hard. And that’s ok.

The thing about grief is it never really goes away. If you haven’t heard the ‘ball in a box’ concept of grief, do a quick search. I’m not sure where it originated, but I’ll summarize. Basically, your grief is a ball bouncing around in a box. When the ball touches the side of the box, that represents a feeling of grief (sadness, anger…whatever). At first, the ball is really large so it touches the sides all the time. Gradually, the ball gets smaller, so it touches the sides less and less. But the ball never goes away, and you can never really predict when your grief will return. Rather than fighting it or trying to ‘get over it,’ you are allowed to just feel your feelings, whenever they occur.

To anyone experiencing grief, whether your ball is tiny or enormous, try to be gentle with yourself. Take some time. Take a break. Take a walk. Take a nap. Do whatever you can to be kind to yourself.

Don't Think I'll Tell Her

The Doctor examined me tonite and told me Joyce was on her way. Goodness - half the time is over already. What would mother say - don’t think I’ll tell her - she would only worry anyway. Elsie made peppermint ice cream tonight. No word yet from our Daddy - I’m getting so worried. What could have happened to him? - Annette, March 1942

As I get ready for a big doctor’s appointment myself, I found this entry from Annette. Here we are in early March, and I am halfway through my pregnancy as well! As a side note, I love reading the different names she used for her baby. It started off as Joyce, and eventually became Carol - and she ended up with a Tom!

Annette was on her own, with Clary on a trip to Chunking and Wahnsien for fabric and other supplies. With her amped-up hormones, you can tell how worried she was about his trip. As if that uncertainty wasn’t bad enough, she was also hesitant to tell her family back home that she was pregnant again. Sometimes, she felt embarrassed that she was pregnant again so soon after her first child. Sometimes, she didn’t want to worry anyone. I can relate to her concerns, but for a different reason.

I waited a long time before telling people I was pregnant - not so much because they might worry, but because I was worried about losing work. In the freelance world, I don’t have any guaranteed contracts or agreements from year to year, so I have to rebuild everything each season. That kind of uncertainty is magnified by pregnancy, because I have no idea how my employers will react to the news. Will they be supportive? Flexible? Disappointed? Or will they replace me so they don’t have to deal with it?

Luckily, several employers have been very supportive during my pregnancy. Others, I’m still not sure how it will turn out, honestly. It is unfortunate that in 2019, women still have to worry about employment when they get pregnant. My personal choices should not affect other people’s perceptions of my ability to do my job. All I can do is let people know when it comes up, and hope for the best.

They Are Fascinating

We had a kiddie gig at an elementary school today. We talked some about how kids learn and think. I don’t want kids, but I do think they are fascinating. Especially when they are old enough to have personality. Their minds are fascinating. - Miranda, 2004

There is something incredibly difficult/annoying about reading your own journals. I guess I am the lucky one in this project, because I can choose which of my entries I publish. I try to choose entries that are real and relevant, but I confess that I sometimes avoid entries that are uncomfortable.

Occasionally during my pregnancy, I have thought back to my early twenties when I didn’t want to have children. It seemed like such a far-fetched idea for me, and with all the problems in the world, I shied away from the traditional expectations of ‘settling down’ and creating more people on the planet. I was certainly not shy about expressing those thoughts in my journals. Some entries were more harsh than others.

This entry, though, reminded me that even when I was not ready to have children, I was still thinking about how interesting children are. I have always enjoyed working with kids. I took several developmental psychology classes in college, and I loved learning about how the human brain develops in the early years. I am really excited to see how this new little person comes out, and what she or he will become. I could have never imagined that feeling 15 years ago.

I am still journaling through this pregnancy, and I still use my journal to work out my fears, worries, and concerns. Journals are a wonderful way to get things out of your brain. Still, even now, I look back on entries I’ve written over the past 4 months and I cringe to think that someone will read those words someday. But that is exactly the reason to write the words. It is part of the process - at least, part of my process. My pregnancy will not defined by any one journal entry, just as my thoughts on children are not defined by thoughts in my twenties. We don’t know how our lives will change. We don’t know where we will be (physically, emotionally) in 5, 10, 15 years. The best we can do is continue to make space for our thoughts and work through them in whatever way we can. Acceptance. Using words from a Hamilton song, “Can you imagine?”

I Thank God For Them

Married? Yes - one of the best of husbands - a nice home, and two dear children. I thank God for them when I look at them. But I don’t want any more until these are old enough to take care of them. - Frances, February 1892

As I’ve been adjusting to my own major life change, I’ve been thinking about not only Annette’s story, but Frances’ as well. For starters, I have been brainstorming baby names by digging through decades of family names. For those of you who know Frances’ full name, there may be a clue there. =)

Also, as Valentines Day came and went, I took a moment to celebrate Frances’ birthday! You may remember that we aren’t really sure when Frances was born. At some point, she changed her birthday to February 14 - Valentine’s Day - so everyone would remember the date!

In this entry, Frances reflects on the passing of another birthday. She was a young 22-year-old, married with two children. She would go on to have 3 more children, losing one daughter at just 6 months of age, but at this moment in time, she admits that she doesn’t want to have any more children for a while. Even with her household help, she wasn’t sure she was ready for more children. This entry reminded me of Annette’s second pregnancy. She wasn’t sure she was ready.

I must admit that I feel that way at times. I am much older than both Frances and Annette, but I still have moments when I don’t feel ready at all! I am fortunate to have so many resources available - resources that were non-existent for my ancestors. I hope I can stay present and take things one day at a time. When everything in your world changes, sometimes that is the best way forward!

On Her Way

I got sick at noon and lost my lunch so I guess Joyce is really on her way. I would have to be different than all other women. I didn’t want another baby so soon, but I guess there is nothing to do about it now. - Annette, December 1941

We’re back! Thanks so much for your patience during the down time! The holidays were a bit hectic for me, as I’m sure they were for a lot of people. While I appreciated the time off from the blog, the women's stories were always on my mind. Particularly, Annette’s story.

This entry from her is so honest. Her entry from just a few days prior says “Today U.S. declared war on Japan.” She is quite literally in the middle of a war zone, trying her best to care for the doctors, nurses, workers, and babies in the orphanage. Her toddler is not gaining weight, and has whooping cough. In the midst of all that, she finds out she is pregnant again. Imagine how scary that all must seem. What kind of world will that baby grow up in? Will it even survive? She started off calling the baby Joyce, and later Carol, but eventually the baby would be called Tom - my dad. She was just about two months pregnant when she wrote this entry.

Throughout this project, I have tried my best to relate to Frances’ and Annette’s stories. There are so many common themes that show up in all three of our journal entries from our twenties, except for one. Motherhood. Both Frances and Annette were mothers in their twenties, while I was building my career. I draw from my experiences as a teacher, aunt, and friend of little kids, but I could never truly say that I understood their feelings. Until now!

One of the reasons I took some time off over the holidays was because…I found out I am pregnant! My husband and I are so excited, and we have launched ourselves fully into baby planning, shopping, etc. Once the shock wore off a bit, I had a bit of a revelation. My baby is due just a few days after my dad’s birthday. Essentially, I am in the same stage of pregnancy in 2018-19 as Annette was in 1941-42. How cool is that?!

As I get back on track with blog posts, I’ll keep alternating between stories from Annette, Frances, and younger Miranda, but as you can imagine, I’ll probably see the stories through a different lens. I can’t wait to see how everything - and I do mean, everything - develops!

But It's Time

Thanksgiving was so fun. And our last in Montgomery. It’s sad to see the house go. But it’s time. - Miranda, November 2005

Much like Frances, I have very strong associations with places. Every year, as I begin the Thanksgiving preparations, I reminisce about Thanksgivings Past.

I remember our last Thanksgiving at my Aunt’s house in Montgomery. My cousin Claire was just a baby. My Grandparents were still young(ish). We had our classic family dishes. Nothing stands out as spectacular or unusual, but that’s what made it so lovely. The tradition continued, and that alone is perfect.

Houses come and go. They feel like home for a while, and then it is time to move on. But it is never the house that makes it feel like home. It is the people. The stories. The celebrations. The customs. This year, whether you are honoring the past or starting new traditions, I hope you have a wonderful holiday in whatever place feels like home for you.

Just like my diary entry, this blog post is short and to the point. I have to get back to my giant checklist. Now, where did I put that cranberry sauce….

Chocolate Pie

All set for our guests. Clary + I went down at 3 + waited until 5 - so did all the teachers, evang + student body - 300 strong - and they didn’t come - the boat didn’t make it. Sunday I made 3 pies + today 2 crumb cakes but its pretty certain they’ll be here tomorrow. I’m so anxious for them to come. - Annette, October 1943

There is just something about pie. Annette and Clary received word that several other missionaries would be visiting from America, so they set to work preparing the guest room and cooking up a storm. Sadly, their guests were delayed. Not to worry! Just a few days later, they greeted the group of young pastors with pomp and circumstance - and pie. This time of year, as families and friends prepare for guests, I wonder how many pies will be made….

By now, it should come as no surprise that Annette, with her insatiable sweet tooth, included a pie recipe in her diary. It will also not surprise anyone reading this to know that recently, some friends and I started a Baking Club. Each month, we choose a baking topic, then meet up to share our creations and discuss baking techniques, watch the Great British Bake-Off, and snack away. This month’s topic is - you guessed it - pie. So, it was time to tackle my Grandmother’s Chocolate Pie. I’ve made pies before - what could go wrong? Well, I nicknamed my first attempt “Disaster Pie,” so that should tell you something. Read on for the story and the recipe.

Chocolate Pie

3 eggs - separated

1 cup sugar

2oz chocolate

1/4 cup conrstarch

1 tablespoon butter

1 cup milk

1 teasp vanilla

speck of salt

whipped cream

Melt choc. in doboiler. Add milk, salt, + cornstarch mixed with a little cold water + cook until smooth + thick. Stir consis. Add butter. Mix egg yolk + sugar + pour hot mix over them - put back in doboiler + cook 1 minute. When cool, add vanilla. Fold in stiffly beaten egg whites. Place in pastry shell that was baked delicate brown.

Pie Crust

1 1/2 cups flour

1/2 teasp salt

1/2 teasp baking powder

1/3 to 1/2 cup shortening

1/4 cup cold water (about)

Work short into flour with fork. Add cold water slowly enough to hold dough together. (This makes top + bottom crust.)

It was clear that I had failed this pie miserably. The first slice was mousse-like on top, and liquid on the bottom. The only way to eat it is cold, because that at least makes it solid. So, from this experience with Disaster - I mean, Chocolate Pie, I have learned that I need to work on my souffle technique. I have also gained even MORE respect for my Grandmother for making this work in the Middle Of Nowhere, China in the 1940s.

I Love My Home

We have lived here among the Jemison people and found them kind and good. We have bought us a nice home. I don’t like Jemison, but I love my home. It is a comfort to have a nice home, a place where happiness reigns supreme. - Frances, October 1891

Every year, on November 1st, I get a little sad. Once Halloween is over, most people skip right on over to Christmas, missing Thanksgiving entirely. The stores fill with red and green decorations, the movie channels switch to snowy scenes, and almost every TV commercial includes some part of the Nutcracker music. But what about Thanksgiving??

I love Thanksgiving because of the strong ties to family and tradition. Growing up, we always gathered at a family home to celebrate. First, it was my Grandmother’s house in Tuscaloosa - sitting down at the big dining room table. Then my Aunt’s house in Montgomery - taking the family photo on the deck. And my Aunt’s house in Atlanta - snacking on appetizers in the sunroom. A home holds memories like no other place.

From her diary entries, it sounds like Frances struggled with living in Jemison. She never goes into detail about why she doesn’t like Jemison, but she frequently describes her home as a source of comfort and relaxation. She raised her family in that house, and she always felt safe there. Even when the future looked uncertain, she had her home.

There is something wonderful about having a secure, safe place to call home. This Thanksgiving season, as we dust off the family recipes, let’s take a moment to remember the places of our past. Sometimes, home really IS where the heart is.

This Is My City

I’m here in Atlanta! My car has a bunch of stuff in it, and after a few days I’ll be able to start unpacking. Soon I’ll have my first independent gig. Yay! and a paycheck. Big Yay! I applied for a receptionist position at a spa near my apartment (I think). That would be really nice. Any job would be nice. I’m really excited to live in Atlanta. As I was driving in, I drove right through downtown and thought “This is my city.” I think I will have some great experiences here. And I’m sure I will grow as a musician and a person. I can’t wait! - Miranda, June 2005

Sometimes when I write, I like to have the TV on in the background. It makes the writing feel less…intimidating. Today, as I typed up my past journal entries, Sex and the City came on, a show I watched religiously in my 20s. I came across this entry just as the Fleet Week episode began to play.

For those of you behind on your reruns, the Fleet Week episode finds all of the women in a state of transition. Miranda is a new mom, Charlotte is a new divorcée, Samantha is newly single, and Carrie is pondering the Great Loves of her past. As she reflects on her relationships, she realizes that the Great Love she cherishes the most is her city - New York City. Such a funny parallel.

I wrote this entry on my first trip to Atlanta, with all my belongings packed in the car, ready to start my new adventure. I had a single gig, a potential day job, a new checking account (for when the money started rolling in!), and a whole lot of hope.

I have always loved Atlanta. I know it isn’t for everyone, but there is something about this place that makes me comfortable. There have been ups and downs, to be sure. When I started out, I was eager to win a job and move on. But over time (13 years!), the city became part of me. I have built a career here. I bought a condo here. I met my husband and got married here, and we live just down the street from my very first apartment, right in the middle of the city. Who knows what the future holds, but for now, this is still My City.

This Mail Is Too Important

We haven’t received your answer to our first letter yet, but there is an American boat in today and we hope to get some mail on that, I hope, I hope. We had a clipper letter from the Dohrmans last week and were so glad to hear from them. It was such a nice happy letter and it made us feel real good. It was the first word Clary heard from them since we arrived here. It’s funny what mail from the States means to the folks out here - how we all watch the papers for arrivals of American Boats and Clippers and then the whole gang congregates at the post office, waiting for the ferry to come in in the evening. This mail is too important to let the postman bring around - everybody’s waiting for it right off the boat. - Annette, May 1940

Just this week, I was listening to an author describe her latest book, centered around the idea of unplugging from your cell phone and reconnecting with the people around you. This is a very popular idea these days. Phone-free dinners are becoming the norm, with some restaurants even providing ‘phone pockets’ to keep your devices off the table (I’m looking at you, Joanna Gaines!). More and more, people are weighing the importance of “Do Not Disturb.”

We live in a world where we feel obligated to be available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. We take our laptops on family vacations. We check emails late into the night. We share pictures of our food with the world, even before we have our first bite. In our hyper-connected society, we love the rush of staying in touch. However, sometimes that feeling of always being ‘on’ can lead to anxiety, exhaustion, and just general stress. Our ‘Fear Of Missing Out’ leads us to actually miss out on the present moment around us.

Now imagine the opposite were the case. Your only connection to the outside world came via clipper ship, and was often 4-6 months behind. You could only share your activities through a typewriter and international postage. Annette lived for mail days. She always wrote in her diary about the letters and magazines she received. It was the highlight of her day, sometimes even skipping her studies to read her Redbook magazine. I love the image of their crew gathering at the post office, waiting breathlessly for precious cargo - words of love, support, and daily life from their families and friends.

How many of us write letters anymore? We send and receive dozens (if not hundreds) of emails a day, but how often do we stop everything to read or write to a loved one? Maybe we can find a balance between constant communication and thoughtful correspondence. Maybe we can be more present with family and friends, and treat that time the same way as Annette - with anticipation, enthusiasm, and joy.

I Had Every Attention

At my babies birth I had every attention. Mrs. Herbert was with me besides others. Annie is with me too, and she is the kindest of sisters. And if I do say so, she is one of the loveliest women I ever knew. Dr. Pearson will surely get a treasure. During my illness she has anticipated my every wish and stays devoted to our dear babies. - Frances, October 1891

Prince Harry and Meghan Markle announced today that they are expecting. On top of that, my good friend is expecting her second child, and my husband’s good friend just welcomed a beautiful baby girl, so there has been a lot of pregnancy talk in the air. I found it amusing that I came across this entry from Frances.

Here, Frances reflects on the support she received during the birth of her children. I am guessing that Mrs. Herbert was a nurse or midwife, but she also had her sister with her (who later married the family doctor, Dr. Pearson). She also refers to her pregnancy and birth as an “illness,” which may have been common at the time.

I marvel at how things have changed. Imagine how different it was to give birth in 1891 compared to now. Given the medical knowledge at the time, what a comfort it must have been to have your sister - your closest ally - by your side. Imagine the kind of care and treatment Meghan Markle will have throughout her pregnancy. Whether her family is present or not, I’m sure her experience will be quite different!

We can look to the past for guidance, and we can look to the future for hope, but at the end of the day, all we have is the present moment. At your life’s biggest moments, who is in the room with you?

Talk To The People

We were told on the boat we could not get our boat out of Shanghai for about two weeks - we were anxious to be on our way. We did some sight-seeing by rick-shaw, and Monday Clary went down to see about our boat. He returned at noon with the startling news we were taking the Empress of Russia to Hongkong, sailing that night. So we had to quickly hurry up and pack our bags, already unpacked for a long stay in Shanghai, and get them on board by 6 P.M. Boarded the Empress about midnight. This was a Canadian Pacific boat and now we know what a blackout is. The boat was painted a dark gray, and not a sign of light on board after dark. It happened about 9:30 - the siren starts to peal and the lights flicker out one by one. Then you hear the planes over head, and I couldn’t help but think of the poor people who go through this night after night, and the planes flying overhead are not friends, but foe. We ferried over to Cheung Chau Island the next day. We have rented a bedroom, bath and study in this place on the island. We study three hours every morning from 8 to 11, and then usually have to put in about three hours preparing our lessons. It is fun though to recognize a word now and then when we hear these natives talk. The only trouble is, we are studying Mandarin, the northern China dialect and most of the people here speak the Cantonese, the south China dialect. We get a little impatient already when we think we’ll have to be at this for several years before we can even talk to the people right. - Annette, April 1940

Annette continued her journey to her new home in China. The Asama Maru arrived in Yokohama on March 30, with a brief stop in Honolulu. She wrote about all the colorful leis and blossoms. When I was little, I remember she loved to walk around the yard and look at all the beautiful flowers, and from her letters, I can see she always has. They spent a few days in Japan, visiting Tokyo, Gohra, Kyoto, and Kobe. They boarded another boat and headed to Shanghai, where it seems they though they would have a few weeks to settle in. Imagine that surprise that instead of two weeks, they had just one day! Talk about a surprise! I am guessing that Annette had to get used to being ‘ready for anything.’

The Empress of Russia was a passenger ship between World War I and World War II, and what an experience to be on board during a blackout. Annette thinks about what it would be like to have enemy planes flying overhead. Little does she know that will soon be her reality.

But before they headed inland, they spent part of the summer with other missionaries on the island of Cheung Chau, just a two hour ferry from Hongkong. It sounds a bit like that was their ‘training' area. Lots of Chinese studies, fellowship, and making new friends. It is here that Annette starting playing the organ and learning to knit - skills that would serve her well once they started their work in Enshih.

Imagine you are in a brand new world with your brand new husband. Keeping your bags packed and ready, just in case the situation changes. Learning a new language. Learning new skills, like making your own clothes. What an adventure. What a brave woman.

You Should See Me Eat

“We sailed away from the U.S.A., Friday at noon and it’s a thrill I’ll never forget. Band playing, flags waving, streamers flying - gosh it was wonderful. Had quite a crowd down to see us off. We are certainly enjoying this. Gee, Mom, you should see me eat and sleep. We eat about six times a day. They wake us up at 7 with a glass of orange juice. At 8 we eat breakfast and even breakfast has six courses. At 10 o’clock they serve boullion and crackers on deck - wherever you happen to be - and at noon we have lunch. At 3 they serve tea - and what a tea - all those pretty gooey cakes, and you know my weakness for them. At 6:30 we have dinner and then at 9:30 after our movies or bridge game we eat again - lemonade and sandwiches. I never ate so many different things in my life. Eat a shrimp omelet for breakfast after grapefruit and bran and then top it off with buckwheat cakes and coffee. And to eat soup, fish, meat, potatoes, and vegetable salad and dessert for LUNCH. Each meal has about eight courses and about four choices to each course - and you may have as many choices of each course as you wish - comes in hand for desserts - that’s what I like best - to eat about 3 desserts instead of one.” - Annette, writing to her mother in March 1940

One of my favorite parts about this project has been ‘getting to know’ family members from my past. Even more exciting is reuniting with my living family members! Through this process, I’ve been able to talk to my Aunt Jackie, who is married to Annette’s youngest brother Don. I remember Aunt Jackie and Uncle Don visiting us when we were children. It has been such a joy to reconnect with her. She has so many stories about Annette and that side of the family. Which leads me to this entry.

Aunt Jackie sent me a book of letters sent from Annette and Clary, and in all my years of reading Annette’s diaries and letters, I had never seen these! Before Annette left for China, she worked for a publisher, and he offered to publish the letters they sent home while they made their way to China. This slim book contains their letters from February 1940 - September 1940, detailing their journey from St. Louis, MO to Enshih, China. The letters start off in Chicago, their first stop, and continue on to San Francisco, where they boarded a ship to carry them across the Pacific.

Reading her stories about the journey across the globe has been amazing. It fills in some gaps, and confirms some family legends about their big adventure. I just love this entry describing her ship, the Asama Maru.

Annette and Clary set sail on the Asama Maru on March 15, 1940. It was the fastest ship of its time, making the voyage from California to Japan in 15 days. A few months before, that same ship gained notoriety by attempting to smuggle German crew members into Japan - check out the ‘Asama Maru Incident.’

After a few days of sea sickness, Annette really got into the swing of life on the boat. I love her descriptions of all the meals! Her preference for sweets is, once again, quite evident. While on board, they played deck golf, shot clay pigeons, and took relaxing salt-water baths. One of my favorite lines in the entry was this - “here on the ocean, where the sea and the sky meet, you somehow seem so close to heaven - and it was so beautiful - I’ll never forget it.”

She was on her way to a brand new world, with her brand new husband, on a big fancy boat for 15 days straight. Can you imagine?? I can’t wait to explore these letters a bit more. Thanks, Aunt Jackie, for brand new insights into our family’s past!

Screw The Future

So here we are in this ridiculous republican world. How sad. He’s going to run this country into the ground. This administration is only concerned with the wealthy right now. No thoughts or plans for future generations. “We’ll do whatever we want - screw the future.”

My new money plan is to set aside $100 each month. I did last month and this month (actually $190 this month). I feel like I’m finally getting a handle on my finances now. It’s time for me to be on my own. - Miranda, November 2004

It is hard to believe that I have gone a month without posting. When I started this project, my goal was one post each week. I am very goal-oriented, and that seemed to keep me on track. Lately, I just haven’t had the heart to post. The school year is in full swing now, and I’ve had a lot on my plate. Well, truthfully, I may have been adding things to my plate so I didn’t have to log in and look at the date of my last post. There is so much going on in the world right now, and instead of yearning to write, I’ve been avoiding it. When I sat down to write, this post from 14 years ago just leapt off the page. All I can say is….

…..at least I’m consistent?! I am still frustrated with the politics of this country. I vote in every election. I call and write my elected officials. And I still feel hopeless sometimes. Change happens so slowly sometimes, and I do not have the best patience. So, what do I do when things are out of my control? I turn to financial planning!

For some people, budgets are stress-inducing monsters that suck all the joy out of life. For me, they are just the opposite. Give me a spreadsheet and a few accounts to manage and I’ll be perfectly content. I might not always be happy about the balances that I’m seeing, but just understanding the math makes me calm. Numbers aren’t personal. You just work with what you have. Making the most of those numbers is like a game. With enough strategy, you can make the numbers change. I can control my choices and see the results.

That isn’t the case with politics, or people in general. Sometimes, it all feels so very personal. I wish I could see other people’s points of view with the same understanding as the numbers in my spreadsheet. If only my choices yielded visible, immediate results, like paying down debt or watching compounding interest grow. It wouldn’t stop me from having strong opinions, but it might help me stay a bit more calm. Maybe I just need a reminder that when things feel hopeless, there is always something to do. It might not fix the problem, but it just might bring a little peace. Here’s hoping we all find our peace in overwhelming times.

We Have Been Married 40 Years

I am going to some of the wedding parties - and to-day I dressed up - put on a pretty dress and hat and walked out and said to Mr. Grimes "We have been married 40 years to-day."  - Frances, June 1929

It's been a while since I have written.  To be honest, I've been a little stuck.  Between honeymoon planning and the start of the new school year, I have always managed to find something else to do instead of write.  

Then, just last week, my aunt sent a letter that she found while unpacking in her new house.  It reads like a diary entry, even though it is on stationary from the Alabama Woman's Christian Temperance Union.  It was a letter from Frances, writing to her husband on their 40th anniversary!  The letter, written around the time of their youngest son's wedding, has all the hallmarks of Frances' diary from her twenties but written at the ripe old age of 46.  She focused on describing her children and grandchildren, and just like so many of her diary entries, closed by sharing her gratitude for the love of her children and family.    

Finding this letter was such a treasure.  But even better was the conversation it sparked.  My aunt emailed a copy to my mother, their cousins, and the second cousins.  Everyone chimed in with thoughts, questions, notes, and their own reflections.  Frances' letter brought us all (virtually) together.  In Frances' words, "they have been a continual source of pleasure to me always."  I consider myself lucky to be in the company of the wonderful women in this family, and it is an honor to explore our shared ancestors.  I am grateful to them for their support (and for reading this blog!). 

When The Anti-Aircraft Hit You

Clary stayed with Clark last nite + I was worried to death, spent one awful nite.  Wheather still bad so Clark was here again for lunch + for supper.  Elsie + I planned some nice meals I think.  We talked all afternoon + heard some more of the air force + planes + flying.  This is the 2nd time he has cracked up + told us how they strafe buildings + how it feels when the anti-aircraft hit you. 

Clark left this afternoon, plane almost hit our chimney giving us a goodbye "sweep."  

- Annette, June 1943

 

Annette was worried when Clary didn't return home that night, but Clary had been so eager to meet the American pilots that I'm sure he loved staying out all night and hearing war stories!  I wonder what meals they served their new American friend.  As excited as they were to spend time with him, I would guess he was just as grateful, after having crashed in enemy territory and walked 4 days through dangerous terrain.  This entry is such a nice image of young people staying up and sharing stories about their lives.  And I love that he buzzed their house when he said goodbye.  I wonder what happened to him.

I found an obituary for Thomas J. Clark, an Army veteran who was stationed in Hawaii in 1943 before heading to Europe in 1944.  Probably not our guy.

I also found an obituary for Thomas J. Clark who entered the Navy in 1944.  Also not our guy.

In 1952, the University of Richmond's Air Force ROTC had a Professor named Lieutenant Colonel Thomas J. Clark (document here).  Name - check.  Rank - check.  Air Force - check.  Dates - check.  Is this the handsome young Clark who spent time with my grandparents??  I'm going to keep poking around to see what I can find!

 

An American Pilot

An American pilot Lieut. clark came up here today to see us.  We were so glad to see him + have him with us.  His stories were plenty exciting.  He crashed up near Ichang + walked 4 days in Jap territory + finally got here.  He telephoned for a plane to get him but the wheather was bad so he stayed to lunch.  Clary + Doc left with him + spent the afternoon + evening in the city.   He was a swell chap, so friendly and handsome too.  Fun to have company.  - Annette, June 1943

 

This has always been one of my favorite posts in Annette's diary.  During all the bombings and air raids, they finally got to meet one of the American pilots.  It looks like he crashed in Yichang, which is about 240km from Enshi.  That is certainly a long walk through enemy territory!

I have always been fascinated by this encounter.  I've always wanted to know more about Lieutenant Clark.  Who was he?  What was his story?  What was the war like for him? Finally, after years of wondering, I started digging.

At first, I thought Lieutenant Clark might be a member of the Flying Tigers, a group of American pilots who volunteered for the Chinese Air Force (linked here).  But the Flying Tigers were in China from 1941-1942, and this entry is from June 1943.  Knowing the date is helpful, and it looks like a number of the Flying Tigers continued on in their service as member of other fighter groups and squadrons.  Maybe Lieutenant Clark was originally a Flying Tiger?  My endless combinations of 'Clark' 'pilot' 'China' etc. were not turning up any specifics.  If only he had a more unusual name!!  Still, I kept searching.

I found a great article from the US Embassy and Consulates in China (linked here) about the China Air Task Force and 14th Air Force Unit.  As I scrolled through over a dozen photos of soldiers, Chinese citizens, and planes, I noticed a few other 'numbers' - the 23rd Fighter Group, 16th Weapons Squadron, 74th Fighter Squadron.  Finally, some numbers!  Side note: I love that these groups were based out of Moody Air Force base, not too far from Atlanta.  It looks like these groups were part of The Hump, a group of Allied pilots who flew military supplies over the Himalayas to support the Chinese and American Air Forces (linked here).  From the map, it looks like those could be the mountains that Annette always talked about.  Getting closer!

With the numbers in hand, I was able to find 1st Lieutenant Thomas J. Clark, member of the 74th Fighter Squadron.  Could this be the American pilot who visited my grandmother?

 

Bigger Things To Do - and Curried Lentils

I am so frustrated with this orchestra.  No one cares that it sounds bad.  It's so discouraging.  But what's worse is that it could be so good.  But no one cares and no one wants to fix it.  So now my goal is to transcend the Augusta experience.  To kind of pretend I'm not really here.  I'll practice a lot and I'll be that really good clarinetist in the ensemble.  That's my goal.  To get out of here.  To move on.  I can't let this ensemble get to me, or I'll start lowering my own standards of my playing.  I have bigger things to do with my life.  On a positive note, I have $487 in my checking, and a $390 visa bill.  So that's $97 surplus.  Not much, but a surplus nonetheless.  No more spending, except a trip to Publix - I have 2 recipes I'm going to make so I'll have some real food.  - Miranda, October 2004

 

If you ever want to wear yourself out, just pick up your diary or journal from 14 years ago.  I promise, in no time, you will be thoroughly sick of yourself.  Actually, it's not really that bad.  Sometimes you come across an entry like that sums up a whole lot of feelings, like this one.  As I read it, I think back to Annette's and Frances' entries.  Even though they weren't working jobs like mine, they always expressed their inner emotions.  Both women were observing their current situation, but always looking to the future.  Sometimes with worry or fear.  Sometimes with hope or anticipation.  Sometimes they just sketched out their paychecks and did the math to see if they would make it though the month.  Looking back on this entry, I can relate to all of that.

I was so lonely in Augusta.  There I was, a 'real' clarinetist, playing in a professional orchestra and making it on my own.  But it was really hard to make friends - mostly because the members of the orchestra came in from other cities.  I was one of the few that lived in Augusta full time.  I came from college life in my hometown, where I had friends and football games and local dive bars.  I had a hard time adjusting to being by myself so much.

Also, I had a hard time adjusting to the level of playing in the group.  I had only known musicians from Eastman and Florida State.  I remember during an orientation meeting at Eastman, the Dean of the school said "For most of you, the ensembles you play with here will be the best ensembles you will ever play with."  I never really appreciated that comment until my tenure with the Augusta Symphony.  Playing with professional musicians was different.  There was a different level of intensity.  People had families, other jobs, personal lives.  I was used to school life - practicing all the time, listening to recordings and attending concerts, having deep discussions about which orchestra we dreamed of playing with (and a good bit of drinking). 

This journal entry was my turning point.  I wanted to set my sights higher than my current position, so I created not just playing goals - "transcend the experience" - but also financial goals.  Working with money can sometimes be stressful for me, but usually, I find it very calming.  If I wanted to get out, I would need money, which meant a financial plan.  I am great at making plans!  I started saving $100 each month, so when I left Augusta and moved to Atlanta, I had $1000 to get started.  No job, no gigs - just an apartment I had never seen in person, and $1000.

Of course, to celebrate my new plan, I wanted to cook!  The journal entry doesn't mention the exact recipe, but I remember what it was.  Curried Lentils.  I didn't do much cooking in Augusta, so when I found something that worked, I made it ALL THE TIME.  This recipe included a tomato-yogurt sauce, but I never actually made it.  Just lentils and rice.  I haven't made these curried lentils since 2005 or so.  I think it's time to try them out again!

 

Curried Lentils with Vegetables

3 cups vegetable stock

1/12 cups lentils, rinsed and drained

1 cup chopped carrot

1 cup chopped onion

2/3 cup chopped celery

4 teaspoons curry powder

2 teaspoons grated fresh ginger

1 clove garlic, minced

1/2 teaspoon salt

 

In a large saucepan combine water, lentils, carrot, onion, celery, curry powder, ginger garlic, and salt.  Bring to boiling; reduce heat.  Simmer, covered, for 30 to 35 minutes or until lentils are tender and most liquid is absorbed.  Remove from heat.  Let stand, covered, for 5 minutes.

 

I had forgotten how easy this meal really is.  It all goes in one pot and can easily be vegetarian or meaty.  Check out the pictures below!  Enjoy!