And, then, there was me!

At the ages of 41 and 44 years of age, my parents were given another chance to feel quite young when I appeared on the scene. (Not just sure that they thought of it all that way, but in reality, having little children around you does keep you thinking 'younger!') In the above photo, on the couch left to right, is Wayne, Wilma holding me, Dorothy Ann, and Jean. Sitting in front of our father is Merry, and sitting at Jean's knees is Margaret. I may have been named 'Carol' because of the time of year when I arrived....Christmas. (Too bad I am not a talented singer...)

 Mother and me....somehow we both look a little 'stressed.' (Maybe the sun was a bit too bright...)

Here I am with my dad's mother, my Grandma Cooper. Her husband, my grandfather, died just two weeks after I was born, so I never got to meet him. The photo was taken when I was about 8 or 9 months old, and in the back yard of our stone house in Chicago. Grandma Cooper may have come for a visit on the train, since her home was in Sac City, Iowa. Later on, after we had moved to Cedar Rapids, she came and lived with us for a couple of years. Both of my grandmothers lived with us at various times, since back in those days, unless one had money or good insurance, becoming a widow often meant penury, or at least a much more difficult time financially. My mother must have been one of the most patient of people (and, indeed, I know she was...) because we often had one relative or another living with us for varying lengths of time, and in a family with four young ladies and one infant at home, sharing the one bathroom with another person was really pushing a limit of sorts. But, it was accomplished, and I don't think any of us girls were the worse for it.

Me at 7 months

 Me at 14 months with my favorite Panda Bear

Me at the age of 4, taken when my mother and I visited Dorothy Ann and Jimmy on Bainbridge Island.

I was four years old in this portrait.

...and in this one also... 4 years old

This photo was taken when I was 4 1/2 years old.

 In an earlier blog post, I mentioned the Scottish family who rented out the top floor of our building. Here they are, left to right: Bob (or 'Baub' as they pronounced it!), Beth, Mr. and Mrs. McCleary. As I said earlier, I still love to hear the Scottish brogue, and one of my favorite singers is Jean Redpath (who passed away just last year). Her lovely voice singing with that unique accent, is absolutely beautiful. Below is a photo of my dad with Mr. McCleary. I am sorry to say I don't know the first names of either Mr. or Mrs. McCleary.

Mr. McCleary and Wayne. The families must have gotten along well together, because the McClearys lived upstairs in our building as long as we owned it, and perhaps even stayed after it was sold to a new owner. Nice people, as I remember (even at the age of 4 years, kids often can sense when people are good-hearted...)

Mother holding me on her lap, while our dog Mitzi and a neighbor boy look on.

Me, standing on the stone porch steps of the Dayton Street house. A neighbor girl looks on.
(Notice the familiar 'Cooper' knees...)

My mother, Wilma, and me...

Wilma with my cousin Linda (notice the warm leggings with her matching coat and hat...) and me.

A costume party for my 4th birthday. Hmmm...everyone else is dressed in hospital garb, or a soldier outfit....but then there is me....dressed as a gypsy. I guess I've always wanted to be a bit different and stand out in the crowd! (Or, more likely, my family put together a costume for me using clothes and accessories we already had in our home. My mother was a genius at 'inventing' just what was needed so you didn't have to spend money for something you might not get 'good wear from.')

I don't know if this little boy was at the birthday party or not...his clothes look like something he would wear every day. But, there I am in my 'gypsy' outfit.... In any case, I guess there were quite a few kids in the neighborhood, and that must have been rather fun.

My mother did some babysitting when we lived on Dayton Street. I remember one day, she was taking care of a little girl who was too young to walk, and who was seated in some kind of 'jumping seat' in our back yard. Mother had gone into the house for some reason. Well, one of the more mischievous neighbor boys picked up a piece of cinder (the sharp-edged glass-like pieces - think 'lava' - that were left over after you burned coal in your furnace, and were often used instead of gravel in the alleyways), and came into our back yard, and for some unknown reason, cut the cheek of the little girl in the jumping seat. I yelled for my mother to come, and she told the boy to go home and not come back. I think he was known as the 'neighborhood bully.' Back in those days, people would say, "Boys will be boys!"....but we all know differently. Even boys need to learn at an early age that hurting someone else, especially someone smaller (and held captive in a jumping chair!) is a very wrong thing to do...

This was the last Christmas we spent in Chicago. With me are Margaret and Jean, and on the bookcase is a photo of Dorothy Ann and Jimmy from their wedding (they were living  on Bainbridge Island at that time, I believe. Their wedding took place in 1944). This was the Christmas when I got the little child's china cabinet (made by someone my parents knew). It was varnished pine with little glass doors on the top and 3 drawers on one side of the bottom, with a door on the other side...just perfect for my new little set of china dishes - made in Japan! I still have the china cabinet, although it lost its glass in the top doors sometime along the way, and it has been painted a couple of times, which of course has made it lose 'antique' value. But, it is still precious to me, and it hopefully will be handed down to one of the 'new' kids in my family. I also still have a few pieces of my little china set, but most of them are gone. Still, I keep them, and enjoy having them...

Here's a photo of my father, Wayne, working at the post office terminal in Chicago.

And, now back to Wilma's biography...

"When Carol was about five years old, Wayne bid on a run out of Cedar Rapids and got it. So, we sold our two-flat and moved to 17th Street SE in Cedar Rapids, Iowa."

 This was our house in Cedar Rapids. It had a big back yard, and a large side yard on one side. On the other side, we were about six feet away from the next house. I'm sure that would no longer be allowed in building codes, but it was rather common in those days. I loved this house. It had a living room with a bay window (the room where the front door entered), a dining room just beyond the living room, a big kitchen and pantry at the back of the house, and a room where our desk and piano stood (located just to the right of the front door). You could walk up a few steps to a landing that was located between the kitchen and the room with the piano, and then the stairway to the upstairs went up from that landing. Upstairs were two nice, big bedrooms (one with another bay window as can be seen in the photo), one medium-sized bedroom, a small bedroom, and a small bathroom. There was also a stairway at the end of the hallway upstairs that went up to the huge attic. That stairway had a door on it down on the second floor, which helped keep the chilly attic air from coming down into the house during the winter. The house also had a big basement with a couple of rooms and a cellar door where my mother could carry laundry outside to hang on the clothesline. As this blog goes on, I will tell some of my memories of living in that house... I was very happy there, and our lives moved on as my sisters grew into young women, and I grew into my teens. 

So, the story of the Cooper Family continues in days to come.... Those early days were more 'positive' days because World War II was over, and the soldiers, sailors, marines and others who served, and had not been not killed, came home to begin their lives again....

Stay tuned...