Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start . . .
I’d like to think this day, Monday, April 5, 1937, was a beautiful day, sunshiny, cool with springlike breezes, birds singing, indicating all was well with the world.
My six brothers and one sister were ready for another school day, and started the walk across town to the school. My father had given the younger children instructions to go to Aunt Bertha and Uncle Jake’s home after school until they got further notice that they were to return home.
At home, preparations were being made for my birth. My mother and two aunts had done this before, so assisting my mother through labor was not new for them. Soon my father was back from accompanying the children to school and ready for the events of the day.
Then . . . fast forward to the afternoon when the kids returned from school. After a sweet snack at Uncle Jake and Aunt Bertha’s home, they were told they had a new baby sister born that day. This explained all the whispering earlier that morning.
My twin brothers, who were first graders, were given the assignment to choose a name for this new baby. They often played with a girl that they really liked up the street, so they named me after her – Lois, with the middle name Mary, my mother’s name.
And, so my life to join the family began.
