The Writings of Barbara Mae Goepel
Good People & Happy Times
Edited
by
Rachel Michelle Felkner
Julia Anne Hermansen
JULIA MAE BROWN STEVENSON
Born June 23, 1881 in Oakland, Alameda, CA
Married Bradford Leroy Stevenson Sr. June 17, 1905
Died February 27, 1965
Warm Biscuits and Laughter
June 23, 2005
It’s Grandma’s birthday today. I remember Grandma Stevenson as thee all around homemaker.
Everything she did was beautifully done; embroidery to canning, laundry to ironing. In my eyes,
Grandma was a perfect lady. She always wore dresses with stockings and black -heeled shoes. I never
did see her in a pair of pants. However, around the house she scurried about in her carpet slippers.
Grandma starched and ironed everything in sight. During my summer visits she made sure that my
dresses were pressed and starched, I still remember how crisp and clean each dress felt. My mom
didn’t have time to spend doing things like that. Grandma Stevenson liked dressing me up because
she didn’t have any girls, although she wasn’t too fond of doing my hair. It was thick and somewhat
curly. She would say, “I don’t know how your mother does this all the time?” Maybe it was a good
thing she didn’t have any daughters.
Grandma and Granddad (who we called Dad) lived near down town Richmond for a time; I
remember walking to town with them, holding both of their hands. Their flat in Richmond was up
stairs and the place smelled like cigar smoke. Not a thick or heavy smell, just a subtle smell, a smell
that will always remind me of them. During my visits I slept on an army cot that Grandma set up in
the dining room kitchen area. I remember hearing the train go by at night as I tried to fall asleep. In
1939, once my Granddad had retired from Standard Oil Company, they decided to move to Santa
Rosa, CA. It was quite the journey for our family to make, driving from Oakland to Santa Rosa to
visit them, but it was worth it. The minute we walked in the door, Grandma would have something
delicious for us to eat. Her hot biscuits were out of this world, high, and light as feathers, with butter
and homemade jam. Oh, just thinking about them makes my mouth water. Breakfast time at
Grandma’s was my favorite because Grandma would let us drink coffee. I still remember my first cup
of warm coffee. I can remember how it smelled. The rule was, if we ate all of our breakfast we’d get
a cup of milk with coffee and sugar in it. It was just enough coffee to give the milk a little color. I
don’t think my Grandfather approved of us drinking coffee at such a young age. He would always
say that drinking coffee would put hair on our chests.
Grandma would cook all day. Not like we do today. Now we pop a meal out of the freezer, plop
it into a pan, and throw it in the microwave. Pity. Never was chicken as good as it was at
Grandma’s. Maybe it was the home grown chickens, cooked Maryland style (Southern fried with
gravy), that made it taste so good. It’s funny, but I have chicken defrosting for dinner. Think I’ll use
Grandma’s roasting pan and cook it Maryland style. However, I am going take advantage of one of
the modern day conveniences, that being PAM! I am sure that mine won’t taste as good as hers,
there was something about the pans and cook ware used in those day; they seemed to make
everything taste better. Grandma put up peas and beans, pickles, tomatoes, and all kinds of fruit.
She even put up eggs. I haven’t seen that done since. It must have been an old farm thing to “put up
eggs.” With each visit we came back home with fresh eggs, vegetables, fruit, and jars of jelly.
The summer weeks spent at Grandma’s consisted of me picking apples and prunes and riding
Wanda’s bike. Picking apples was okay, but the prunes were hard. I would have to pick the prunes up
off the ground. It was hard on the back, even on a young back. However, what I looked forward to
most was getting on that bike of Wanda’s and taking it for a spin. Wanda was the girl who lived
across the street from Grandma and Dad. She had a two-wheeler bike, something that I only dreamed
of having. I rode that bike up Burbank to Sebastopol Road, around the block, down the streets, and
through the apple orchards. I remember the wind blowing in my hair. It gave me such a sense of
freedom. After the apple picking, and bike riding, we got into Grandma’s game box. From cards to
puzzles, to dolls and tea parties, everything we needed as kids was in the game box. She kept it in
the same cupboard where she stored her canned goods. The Shirley Temple Tea set is what I went for
first, setting up the little table and pretending to serve Grandma or Dad. Ginny (my younger sister)
and I still have a few remaining pieces from that Shirley Temple set; it’s a wonder that any of it
survived between the two of us playing with it so often. Though Grandma humored me the majority
of the time she wasn’t always patient with me. I remember one instance where I continued to beg her
to play with me and she said, “Barbara, you’re such a dissatisfied child, I just played with you.” I was
just lonely for someone to play with. She was right though. Grandma’s true passion was not in
accompanying me to my tea parties or helping me dress up my life size Shirley Temple doll, it was
playing cards. Grandma loved playing double solitaire. I can still remember how she laughed when
she started putting a run of cards on her Aces. Her laughter makes me smile.
War Years
The airplanes were a constant reminder of the war. Grandma’s nerves were put on edge each
time a plane took flight over her home. In her front window hung a star flag, honoring her son, who
I knew as Uncle Brad. The war broke out in 1941 and times were rough, but Grandma stayed busy
and made the best of things with what she had. During such times, everything was rationed, from
coffee beans, to sugar, to shoes. I remember how the used coffee grounds covered the top of
Grandma’s stove; she would dry them out in order to squeeze a few more cups of coffee out of them. It
was a time where family became important. It was a time where families helped each other get by.
Grandma got extra sugar coupons for canning her food, which she passed onto my mother along with
her extra shoe stamps.
Grandma Stevenson was a private person, quite, and never bragged about her achievements. I
never heard her talk about what she did socially. Though she spent most of her time as a house wife
she did spend some time as a telephone operator when she got out of school. She also had a brother,
Will, who died quite young and she had a sister Jessie who lived in Southern California.
Unfortunately, some family disagreement had come between the sisters and Grandma never talked
about her sister much after that. Well as I said before, she was a private person and it wasn’t until
after she passed away that I found out more about some of her social achievements. While going
through some of her keepsakes I came across an award that she had received for being the president
of an organization called “War Mother’s.” “War Mother’s” was for all mothers who had sons or
daughters in the service, whether that is in the Army, Navy, or Marines. I don’t know much else
about it or what she did, but I am confident that she had a great influence for good among those
mothers.
The Santa Rosa days were happy days even during the war years.
Two Stepping Into Change
Yes, it was funny watching Granddad (Dad) and Grandma; Dad would grab Grandma and
dance around the kitchen. He called her baby. “Come on baby let’s dance” and around they’d go, two
stepping around the kitchen to the back porch, and into the living room. We’d laugh and watch.
Grandma would say something like, “Oh go on. Stop you’re fooling around” and Dad’s response was,
“Oh come on baby.” Dad was a playful man. However, Grandma was a better cook than a dancer.
My dad was the one who received the call informing him that his father had passed away, in
his home, from a heart attack. Mom and Dad didn’t let me go up to Santa Rosa for the funeral. I was
too young for the sadness, it was better for me to stay home with Nannie. My wonderful “Dad”
Granddad was now only with us in spirit. Grandma was lonely from that time on, but she made the
best of it. She continued to live in Santa Rosa on Sunset Avenue until 1963 when she decided to live
the remaining years of her life at the Masonic Home in Union City, which was closer to where my
parents lived.
Sunday’s became days of reunion. My parents would have Grandma Stevenson over for dinner
and we would eat my dad’s fresh vegetables from the garden and enjoy one another’s company. My
mom now took the role of the cook, while Grandma Stevenson enjoyed the cooking. Times changed as
Grandma aged and as I started a family of my own. Now it was me bringing my kids to visit
Grandma. Now it was my turn to bring warm meals to her. We tried to visit often, our boys’ filled
her little room with such activity, but she loved it. My boys called her Gam Gam. She always would
say, “I hope the boys remember me.” Julia Mae passed away February 27, 1965.
It is bittersweet to think about those years of our life. Grandma feels as alive to me today as she
did when I stayed with her during the summers playing with the Shirley Temple paper doll, having
tea parties, eating biscuits and jelly, or riding Wanda’s bike. What a happy childhood. Oh what
happy days, lots of love and good food. Thank you God for Grandma Julia Mae Stevenson. I was
thirty-three years old when she passed away. I had thirty-three years with my Grandma. Now when
I walk by the mirror I get a glimpse of her and have to take another look, oh it’s me! Barbara Mae.
BRADFORD LEROY STEVENSON SR.
Born August 5, 1875 in Ukiah, Mendocino, CA
Married Julia Mae Brown June 17, 1905
Died January 11, 1949
Grandpa Stevenson: The Country Boy
August 5, 2005
Today is my Grandfather Stevenson’s birthday-I think. Didn’t look through the boxes of papers to
make sure, but this is his birthday month for sure.
His family called him Bradford Leroy. Grandma called him Roy, while others called him Pat.
I’m not sure where that nickname came from, it seemed like the Stevenson’s’ had a nickname for
everyone. But he was always “dad” to me. So I’ll refer to him as dad.
Dad was a country boy, from loving the outdoors to cowboy movies. Fishing, hunting, and
camping were his passions. He had a wonderful sense of humor and loved to tell stories. I remember
how he would sing as he played his guitar. Grandma did say that he had a bad temper, but I never
saw that side of him.
Dad worked for the Standard Oil Company. He drove a small train out to the oil ships. I’m not
exactly sure what he did, but I do know that Dad had several jobs throughout his life. Before he
worked for Standard Oil he worked as a bakery truck driver. Dad would go from one neighborhood
to the next delivering bread to households, similar to what the milkman did back in those days. In
one of my boxes I have a picture of Dad standing by his bakery truck. Dad retired in 1938 and they
ended up moving from Richmond to Santa Rosa and lived in a small home there.
Story Telling and Playful Times
There wasn’t television back in those days so telling stories was the way Dad entertained
everyone. He told us stories about wild animals, like how he had caught rattle snakes, black bears,
and panthers. His stories were always scary, but I could never get enough of them. At times he
would tell silly stories about two silly men, who he called Pat and Mike. Pat was the dumb one and
Mike was the responsible one. One story went like this: One day Pat and Mike decided to go hiking in
the country and Mike told Pat to be careful of ticks because they suck human’s blood and bore into
the skin. So Pat was kind of nervous and throughout the hike Pat kept watching out for ticks. Finally
they came to this thing in the pathway and Mike kept walking, but Pat stopped he picked up a rock
and started smashing this object which was making a ticking sound. Pat called to Mike and said that
he had just killed a tick. Mike looked at Pat and then looked at the ground. Pat had smashed a watch.
That is just one silly adventure of Pat and Mike. Dad had lots of those kinds of stories.
Dad was such a playful man. Whenever we would come to visit he would pretend like he
couldn’t remember our names and then give us ridiculous names like, tumble toemackroken or
Johnny Comedabite. He had a silly name for each of us. I also remember how every time Grandma
and Dad would come to visit, before leaving, Dad would play what he called the money game. He
would toss coins up in the air and we kids would try to catch them. Oh how we loved the money
game.
What wonderful memories of playful times.
Chickabities
Dad’s garden was glorious and fed us well. He loved his chickens. He called them his girls. At
feeding time his girls would all come running to the hen house door and he’d just talk to them. He
would say, “hello my little chickabities.” Dad had names for everything. One winter he had to keep
the baby chicks in the house to keep them warm. I can still remember how those little chicks smelled
as they sat in their little boxes.
Grandpa Stevenson’s Love
It was a sad day when we received the phone call that dad had died. Both my parents went up
for his service, but they wouldn’t let me go. I always felt bad about that, wished I had been there, but
I guess my parents had their reasons. Maybe my Daddy wanted to be alone without having to bring
the kids along. They said I was too young, but I was 16 years old. It was fifty-seven years ago, but I
remember it all so vividly. I remember him so well. As I write I can hear his voice. Thank you God
for the wonderful memories of a grandfather who was so full of joy, life, and love. He taught me how
to love and I hope that I have passed that on to my own family. When I see David’s beautiful garden
it reminds me of my childhood days in Santa Rosa at Grandma and Dads.
HELEN DOROTHY WHIPPLE
Daughter of Helen Dawson Whipple and Walter Whipple
Born June 26, 1908 Oakland, Alameda, CA
Married Lewis J. Stevenson on August 25, 1931
Died June 25, 2003
Children:
Barbara Mae born July 13, 1932
James Leroy born April 12, 1935
Virginia Ann born December 14, 1940
The Whipple Family
Mom was reared in a loving home in Oakland, California. The living conditions were meager
and often crowded, but mom never spoke negatively about it. Walter Whipple was not a man of
great fortune, but he was a talented man. Walter was an actor, who traveled to San Francisco,
Oakland, and Southern California, for performances and auditions. The Whipple’s had four healthy
children, the first being my mother, Helen Dorothy Whipple born June 26th, 1908. It was said that
mom didn’t have any bad marks as a new born baby. As she grew older her siblings called her HD a
nickname that would stay with her throughout her life. All the children were born at home with the
help of a practical nurse from the Christian Science Church. Mom remembers being in the kitchen
when her mother’s water broke while caring her soon to be baby brother, Nate. One miscarriage and
thirteen years of my mother’s childhood past before a third child entered the Whipple home. Walter
Jr. would become mom’s second brother and one that she would help tend and care for. Twenty- two
months after Walter, came Aunt Harriet, but mamma called her Hat. Her birth allowed for some
concern and was different from all the other Whipple babies, her head was misshapen when she
came out, however, my grandfather massaged her tiny skull and prayed that his baby girl would be
alright. His prayers were answered.
At a young age mom became her mother’s (who I knew as Nannie) right hand man, cooking
dinners and caring for her siblings. Mamma and Nannie developed a close relationship during those
years, one that was unique from all the other siblings. Mom was the second mother of the home.
Walter and Hat were the babies, while mama was the adult.
The Whipple’s were Christian Scientists. Health care procedures and doctor visits were looked
down upon and were withheld from my mother throughout her childhood. Mom was frequently ill
during her teenage years, so ill in fact that she missed an entire year of high school. During this
time she relied on Christian Science prayers given on her behalf.
One Sunday A fternoon
Mom attended Frick Jr. High, Fremont High School, and Anna Heads School (where she made
up her year of high school). Anna Heads was a private school for young ladies, but ironically it is
where she met and fell in love with daddy. Claire was mamma’s best chum and mamma owes it all to
Claire for her and daddies first acquaintance. From the time mom was a little girl, she can
remember Claire talking about Lewis and Bradford, but it wasn’t until she was seventeen that she
actually got to meet them. It was a Sunday afternoon and they were on their way to Richmond to
meet Lewis and Bradford. Mom says it was love at first sight when she met Lewis. It was fun
listening to mom and dad reminisces about that Sunday afternoon. Dad said he was bold from the
start. Dad put his arm around mom that same afternoon. However, four years went by before
anything happened between the two; mom went to San Jose State, receiving a college education that
her cousins were paying for, while Dad was in Southern California going to Polytechnic College.
After two years of torture, from being so far from one another, mom decided to follow dad to
Southern California (chased him they used to say) and they were hitched August 25th, 1931. Their
marriage took place in a small Methodist Church with only two friends present. A wonderful
romance had begun, one that I felt I had to live up to.
Though my parents were happily married, it seemed that everyone around them was in
opposition to their union. The Stevenson’s wanted Lewis to wait until the depression was over so that
he could find a job, pay off his education, and properly support his family. On the Whipple side my
mother heard comments such as, “Get married!! Why get married!! Earn a living for a while. Get a
job, to support one person is hard enough, but for a couple, how senseless.” Mamma’s cousin got their
point across by sending mom and dad a bag of walnuts as a wedding present. Despite the opposition,
my folks stuck with it and were married for 66 years with beautiful memories to hold onto. Through
ups and downs they always were a devoted couple. My parents always looked so good together. I’ll
always remember how beautiful they were even until their last years with us.
Three Children
My parents were living with relatives on Dads side of the family when mom got pregnant. Dad
didn’t have a job at the time, but my parents moved forward. The pregnancy was going well until a
routine doctor’s visit became not so routine. Somehow, my mother’s chart had been switched with
another patient’s, Mrs. Jones. On that same day Mrs. Jones was receiving an abortion. The doctor,
thinking mom was Mrs. Jones, gave mom an injection and then to his horror, found out she was Mrs.
Stevenson, and flew out of the room. She never saw that doctor again. Though mamma was sick for a
while after the injection, Nannie took care of her with Christian Science help, and on July 13, 1932 she
delivered a baby girl. Mom cried when she found out I was a girl and not a boy. She wanted a boy
because that’s what Dad wanted. But they learned to love their little Barbara Mae and I became the
apple of everyone’s eye, loving and precious.
When mom got pregnant again, dad didn’t want her practicing Christian Science, he thought it
was stupid for her not to go to the doctor. During this time we moved in and lived at Nannies. Dad
stayed in L.A. because that’s where his work was, but everything isn’t clear about this time in my
parent’s life, mom didn’t talk too much about it. Eventually dad came north so that the whole family
was together at Nannies. Dad ended up getting a job with Wards and my parents were able to move
out on their own when I was about two years of age. It was a little apartment behind a big house on
Seminary Avenue, near Mills College.
Jim was born April 12, 1935. The four of us moved to a little house on Foothill Boulevard in
Oakland. Dad was working for PG&E now. This was the beginning of my parents getting on their feet
as a little family.
When mom got pregnant with Ginny in 1939 it was quite the surprise. They didn’t plan to have
any more children, but they were happy when on December 14, 1940 they had another baby girl. It
seemed like they were just getting on their feet when once again there was another mouth to feed.
Helen Dorothy Whipple: Her Devotion as a Wife and Mother
“Be Daddy’s baby girl,” mom would tell me. I guess she knew even in those early years of their
marriage that Dad needed lots of praise and care. Mom devoted her life to taking care of Dad.
Everything revolved around him. Mom was a loving mother. Her whole life was her family. Religion
was not an important part of our family life. The most important thing for mom was to make a
happy home and have a happy husband. She would always fix herself up when it was time for dad to
come home. She would put on a clean dress, do her make-up, and have dinner on the table. She was
lovely. Her nails were always polished. I don’t know how she kept herself so nice. She wanted to be
perfect for dad. . I remember running to meet dad when he came home from work. “Run to Daddy,”
mom would say. Mom was always very dependent on dad. Not like women are these days. Her
husband was always her whole life.
Mom worked hard. Taking care of a household back then was hard work. There weren’t any
automatic washing machines, electric heaters, easy forms of transportation, or refrigerators. I
remember one Christmas when mom got a vacuum, which, at the time that was considered quite a
luxury. Mom also canned all kinds of food so that we always had nutritious food to eat. She was the
best homemaker in the neighborhood. Mom sewed all of our dresses and always looked as fresh as a
daisy when dad came home from work. She was a wonderful cook too. She would always have
something for dessert, fruit or jell-o , if she wasn’t able to make a cake. Mom’s hot milk cakes were so
famous. If there was unexpected company mom could whip up a cake in ten minutes, bake and serve
it in an hour. That’s what mom did best. One night dad came home from work and found mom on
top of the dining room table because she had seen a mouse. It gives me the creeps now to think of a
mouse, but it was funny to dad. He thought it was so funny to see her up on the table when he
walked through the door.
Mom was always full of fun and enjoyed a social life. Mom loved to dance. It was fun to watch
mom and dad dance around the house. Mom loved music, loved listening to the radio, and loved
going to Bing Crosby movies. Mom also loved to play cards, Bridge mostly.
Living Conditions throughout the Years
We lived in a house on Foothill Boulevard in Oakland until Jim was about two years old. With
a growing family we needed more room and a yard to play in. From Foothill we moved to Morcom
Avenue in the Maxwell Park District. This home seemed so big compared to anything we had ever
lived in. The rent was affordable so we moved in in 1938 and lived there until 1950. I remember
everything about that house on Morcom Avenue. It seemed big to mother, but it is probably small
compared to most homes today. There was a hallway between the bedrooms and the bathroom and
we would play house in the hallway. It was so fun getting everything out, but hard and tiring to
pick up the mess. When there was nice weather we would play house on the front porch with my
dolls and a blanket, a box, and a table, that was great fun. The house was situated on a hill the front
street was level with the front of the house and then a steep driveway to the garage. So the back
yard was down about two flights of stairs. We played on the landing sometimes, but I remember it
was hot in the back and we got slivers from the wood railing and landing. Nannie was always
cautioning mom to be careful hanging her laundry on the line because it went way out over the yard
and the porch railing was way high. One thing about it though was the laundry always dried fast
even in the winter. We were within walking distance to shopping in the Seminary District and to
Nannies house. There was public transportation to downtown Oakland. Mom always walked a lot.
She attributed walking to keeping her in good shape. Mom was always an active person.
Mom helped dad build their house in Hayward. The years that the house was being built were
very difficult on the family. The landlord sold the house on Morcom so we had to move. Mr. Oliver
was the name of the landlord in Oakland and he wanted to sell the house we lived in to either us or a
returning Veteran. Dad was a few hundred dollars short of making the payment, so Mr. Oliver sold
the house to the G.I. The family was split up at this point in time. Mom and dad lived in Mary King’s
basement while the house in Hayward was being built. The basement conditions weren’t very
pleasant. Ginny lived with them. She was able to continue her grammar school, but being in the
basement got to be too difficult. They tried to live with Harriet and her family for a while but the
sisters had problems so finally mom, dad, and Ginny moved into Nannies house where Jim and I
were living. At the time Walter and Eleanor were living with Nannie, but had to move out once my
mom, dad, and Ginny moved in. Mom tried to keep things nice and harmonious, but Nannie wasn’t
too happy about having Walter move out and our family move in. Those days we didn’t have much
because everything we had was going into the house. It took two years to build the house in
Hayward. All of us worked on it during the weekends.
My parents thought it was important that all of their family was together under the same roof.
Their attitude towards the living situation was that they needed a place to stay where their family
could be together. In 1951 we moved into the house in Hayward, actually I continued to live with
Nannie because I was working in Oakland by then. Mom was so happy with their new home. After
renting for so many years and living with other people it was a blessing to have something of their
own.
When dad retired they decided to move up to the country. They found a lot in Pine Grove and
started building another house. Those were happy years. They lived there 26 years. That’s a long time
to be retired and in one place.
Under the Cloud of War
The war broke out December 7, 1941. Our whole childhood was under the cloud of war.
Uncle Walter was in the Navy and stationed at Pearl Harbor. The bombing was a worry from
that first Sunday morning. Mom married dad during the depression and now had to care for her
family during a war. The war years were very hard. Being little I wasn’t concerned, but I remember
black outs and saving things to help with the war effort. Mom kept a can of grease fat and took it to
the butcher shop in order to get it redeemed for meat stamps. Mom liked to go to the Chinese butcher
who went by the name of Henry. He would give mom bones too and she would make soup for the
family. We always had good nutritious meals: meat, vegetables, and a lot of milk. We also saved tin
foil and took it to school. We collected books for the service men that were in the hospital. This was a
time where everything was saved and everything was used, nothing went to waste during these
days. The shoes mom bought for us were practically made out of cardboard. Leather at this time was
rationed as well. My dad would re-sole our shoes and put taps on the heels so that they would last
longer. I loved the clicking sound that my shoes would make when I walked. I remember my teacher
telling me, “Walk softly Barbara.”
I had two Uncles in the Army and one in the Navy. I still remember how we prayed for them
to be safe and come back home to us. All of them came back home safe and uninjured. Uncle Bill
came back home as well, he was Aunt Harriet’s boyfriend; they were married in 1944, while he was
home on leave. My dad was in the Coast Guard Reserve and several nights a week he would stand
guard at the Port in Oakland. I remember how fine he looked in his Coast Guard uniform. I don’t
know why we never took a picture of him in that uniform. I remember dad feeling like he wasn’t
doing much to help the country because he wasn’t in the service, but he had several deferments. He
worked for PG&E and considered national defense and he also had three children at the time. The
government tried not to draft men who had families. So he decided to volunteer with the time that
he did have. Dad also grew what was called a Victory Garden. Patriotic individuals grew gardens,
no matter how small the plot of land they had. We always had vegetables to eat and gardening was a
joy for my dad. I remember pulling up carrots and hardly washing off the dirt before eating them. I
also remember the apricot and cherry trees. We always had apricot jam galore, but the darn birds
ate the cherries before we could pick enough to can. I guess mom did get enough though to make at
least one pie. Housing shortages were common during the war years; in fact several families lived
above grocery stores. Seems strange now, but we were lucky to have a home, a home that had three
bedrooms and surround by a nice neighborhood.
Every neighborhood was given a ration board and the homemaker or head of the family would
go and get more ration stamps when their family needed more. I remember waiting in line with my
mother to get more ration stamps. If a person canned food they received extra stamps for sugar. I
remember mom making her own Mayonnaise and we ended up liking hers better. My grandparents
saved stamps for us because we were a growing family and needed more things than my
grandparents. My grandfather lived in Santa Rosa at the time and had his own garden so he
received extra stamps for gasoline in order for him to fill up his tractor. If my grandfather didn’t use
up all of his gasoline stamps he would give them to us. That way we could go and visit them in Santa
Rosa. I remember we often saved gas by taking the Richmond ferry, which would cross the bay to
San Rafael. This not only saved a little gas, but also gave dad a break from driving. In those days
the drive from Oakland to Santa Rosa took a long time. At that point in time there weren’t any
freeways or highways and cars didn’t go as fast as they do now. The ferry ride was always an
adventure. I remember the way the water smelled and how cold and windy it was on deck. I don’t
remember how many cars the ferry could hold, but I remember in the summer time we had to wait
after watching two or three boats would pull out.
During the war we often had service men over for dinner. Men that were away from their
homes would come and mom would whip up some sandwiches and cake. I’m sure mom was doing lots
of things to help the war effort that I was unaware of as a child.
During the war Nannie was very active in an organization called “Navy Mothers” where
mothers kept a home away from home for sailors that were stationed in Oakland. Mothers took
turns being a mom for sailors from all over the country.
Camping at Eel River
I remember having to hold my breath for a really long time every time I went out to use the
outhouse. I didn’t like that part of camping. We really roughed it though, no showers or potties or
electricity. We kept food cold in a galvanized tub in the creek with a burlap sock that we threw over
the top. We sang camp songs by night and washed in the cold water in the mornings. I would watch
the little frogs under the water while I brushed my teeth. One time Grandma the prim and proper
lady killed a rattle snake at the camp. That created a lot of excitement. One night mom hurt her foot
going to find out why Jimmy my brother was crying, she ended up stepping on a tent stake. Dad
turned into Dr. Stevenson and nursed mom’s foot back to health. He was always ready to fix
something and make it better. We went camping every summer. It was really unusual for a family to
be able to go away for two weeks, but we were lucky, Nannie didn’t think it was anyway to
vacation. Too much work, she would say. However, Jim and I always had fun, playing and
swimming all day.
Our first camping area on the Eel River was at Hughes. Mr. Hughes owned property that was
on the river and went up to highway 101. There were a few redwood trees on the property, but there
were also oak trees. Our camping spot was on McCoy Creek. The big picnic table was under the oak
tree and it was shady there all day long. The men folks set up camp keeping every one’s comfort in
mind. Burlap enclosed our camps—affording privacy for the beds because of course we all slept
outside under the stars. I can still remember a round little mirror hanging on the oak tree, a
homemade trap to lure in the yellow jackets, and fishing poles leaning against the tree.
My dad would make camping fun for mom. He helped with the cooking over the camp fire.
They made love under the stars. Those were such happy times. Mom and dad always made it fun for
us. Eel River was always the special camping place for mom and dad. Lots of family memories. After
we were all grown up mom and dad continued to camp at Eel River, even though mom was lonesome
without any of her kids there.
Gardening
There was always a flourishing garden in Hayward, apricot trees in the backyard provided
fruit for jam, eating, and putting up. We really worked hard canning, it was life, and we always had
a production line in the kitchen on Morcom Avenue. We all took pride in a closet full of jars. It was
the food that we had grown and canned.
Mom’s Later Years
The folks were always there to help us kids. If we ever had an emergency they were there to
help. They were always ready to help their kids. Their life was quieter when they moved to Pine
grove. Mom fell and broke her hip, which really slowed her down. Six months later she had to have a
replacement surgery done. After dad passed away Mom moved to Napa to be near Hazel (a close
friend of hers). That was a hard time for her, but she never complained. I have a picture of her after
the furniture was taken out of the house. She was sitting in their bedroom on a folding chair in the
middle of the room watching me work and go through the things from the closet; helping me decide
what to keep and what to throw away. She wanted most of the clothes to go to the church. Her day
alone in Napa was hard for her. I always felt badly when we visited and left her alone at the
Redwood (a assisted living facility). She had good times there though. The residents there called her
the social butterfly. Hazel visited her every day. Mom moved two other times after that, each move
being harder than the first. We were planning a party for mom on her 95th birthday, but she really
didn’t want it. She left us on the 25th to spend her 95th birthday with the love of her life. I was
privileged to have a wonderful momma. We always had fun together. It makes me smile to know
that today would be her 97th birthday. It has been a wonderful way to celebrate her sweet, sweet life.
Uncle Walter
May 25,2005
Today is Uncle Walter’s birthday. He was born in 1921. Walter was a big robust baby and my
Nannie was a small woman so the birth must have been difficult on her. The family must have been
overjoyed when the healthy baby was born. Uncle Walter was eleven when I was born and he
thought I was great. My parents lived a lot with mom’s family so I was very close to Uncle Walter.
He took care of me when I was little.
When I think of Walter I think of a man that made everyone laugh. He clowned around,
played jokes on everyone, and had quite the imagination. He seemed to always be goofing around,
which irritated my dad. I remember one time when Harriet and I were sitting at the piano and at
the window appeared this scary face. Uncle Walter had gotten into my grandfathers stage make up.
Walter would pound on the piano, instead of playing the harmonious melodies that Harriet would
play. Sometimes he would play the ukulele while singing silly songs. He came to Eel River a few times
and played with us in the river. I remember one time he wore a cowboy hat and pretended like he
was Captain Hook, as he pushed the raft around with the ore.
Uncle Walter: The War and His Return
Uncle Walter joined the Navy soon after graduation and our fun days with him seemed to
come to a close. On December 7th, the day of the Pearl Harbor bombing, Walter was at sea, stationed
on the USS Pensacola Cruiser. Luckily his ship went unharmed; however, the Navy Department sent
Nannie a message stating that her son was believed to be dead. She couldn’t bring herself to believe
such news and sure enough several months later we received a letter from Walter saying that he was
okay. The Pensacola did receive torpedo damage and Uncle Walter received burns on his hands and
body. He never talked about what he experienced the day Pearl Harbor was bombed or what war
was like for him. The only way we knew somewhat of what he went through was by watching the
history channel on TV. We didn’t hear from him very often while he was away because it was hard
to write, but we wrote to him. Four long years went by and in 1945 when I was 13 years old I
answered the telephone and heard his voice. He told me he was home. I remember how I ran to him,
all tears and long legs, as he stood in the street dressed in his sailor suit. I will remember that day
for the rest of my life. What a joyous reunion the family had.
Walter and Eleanor
Walter met Eleanor before he got out of the Navy and they were married in 1945. Eleanor was
different than we were; she was a career-oriented woman, not the homemaker type. She always
disapproved of me marrying Bob at such a young age. Eleanor and Walter never did have any
children, they believed it would have interfered with their partying life-style; Eleanor said that she
wanted to live. It sad to me, I know that Walter would have been a good father. Slowly Walter and
Eleanor drifted away from the family, usually we saw them on Christmas, but they never came over
for any of the other holiday dinners or family get togethers.
Careers and Retirement
Once Uncle Walter got out of the Navy he went to work for Del Monte Cal Packing in Oakland
or San Francisco (I can’t remember). He also worked for Southern Pacific, where he designed and
developed the refrigerated boxcars for trains. He never blew his own horn about his development,
but it was quite revolutionary. He and Eleanor lived with Nannie from 1946 to 1950, up until our
family invaded Nannies home. I think Eleanor resented that, and I don’t blame her. They ended up
building a home in Concord.
Walters retirement years were rewarding. He was the Chaplin for the Legion of Honor in
Walnut Creek and enjoyed reading the Bible. At his memorial service, I was so full of emotion that I
was unable to share my feelings and love for him, however my son David was able to, which I have
always been grateful for. I always loved my Uncle Walter. I always admired his accomplishments.
There isn’t anything left now but the memories of Uncle Walter, that fun loving, happy-go-lucky
man. God bless his memories on his birthday.
RUBY LOUISE SWANSON
Born September 5, 1910 in Rock Island, IL
Married Robert B. Goepel Sr. in Oakland, Alameda, CA in 1931
Died November 7, 1972
Children:
Robert B. J. Goepel born May 14, 1932
Family Life
September 5, 2005
Ruby Louise Swanson was born in Rock Island, Illinois in 1910. She was from a larger family, a
family of six children, I do believe. Her siblings were: Violet, Gladys, Buster, Adele, and Robert. Ruby
came after Gladys and throughout the years Gladys and Ruby seemed to be connected at the hip.
They did everything together, from double dating to getting together to play bingo. Ruby came from
a tight knit family and she always believed that family was important. Before the great depression
Ruby’s family moved from Illinois to California in order to be closer to their other relatives.
Ruby finished school in California and met Bob Goepel during her high school days. Gladys
dated Jim and Ruby dated Bob and the four of them seemed to have a ball together, even as they
grew older. Ruby told me one time that she was attracted to Bob because he was so unhappy, which
seems to be an odd reason to fall in love with someone. She felt sorry for him because he didn’t have a
place he called home. Ruby felt like she could take care of him, give him a family, and a home that he
never had.. Bob and Ruby were married and on May 14th 1932 Robert Goepel Jr. was born. He was
the apple of her eye. Ruby always made a happy home and took good care of the men folk.
Ruby: Willing to Try Anything
Ruby had many different jobs throughout her life. She would try anything. During the war years she
worked for Tidy Dides, it was a diaper laundry service. It’s funny to think of all the jobs that people
had back in the days that are now nonexistent. In her later years she worked for a bakery.
Whenever she would come to visit she would always have donuts for us, which was such a treat back
then.
Family Vacations
As a young boy Papa remembers taking family vacations to Lake Alamo, where they would
fish. He remembers how his mom caught the biggest fish, but she ended up losing it when the line got
tangled up and broke. They spent most of their vacations in Lake County. Ruby loved the indoor
swimming pool there. When papa was a teenager they spent vacations in Strickles cabin. They loved
the area so much they bought a lot for their home.
Ruby’s Sickness
After Papa and I were married we had family dinners in Hayward, or spend time at their
cabin in Lake County. Ruby and Robert were living in Castro Valley when Ruby became ill with
cancer. Papa would go by to visit her after work and then I would go and take care of her during the
week. Grandpa Goepel was home with her on the weekends. The treatments for her cancer made her
very sick, but she didn’t like people coming and taking care of her. She only allowed me and Aunt
Dorothy (her sister-in-law) to tend to her needs.
Beautiful Ruby
Ruby’s favorite flower was the sweet pea blossom, she grew them in her back yard. She would
often say that her garden was her church. Every time I see a Dogwood tree in bloom I think of Ruby,
she loved those trees. Her favorite restaurant was Bertalasm and boy did Ruby love gambling. Ruby
and Gladys would take off for the weekend to go gamble, fortunately Ruby was a lucky woman. She
was always the one who won at bingo or came home with money after a night of gambling. Oh, what
a beautiful woman Ruby was. She could make the best tuna sandwiches; I’m still trying to figure out
how she did it. She knew how to mix the tuna just right. Papa loved her noodle casserole and apricot
pie. Papa remembers how she would can apricots or how she would sit in her rocker as she shelled
peas. I still have several of her recipes in my kitchen. What a homemaker she was. She must have
been a very patient and loving mother because Papa is a very loving, tender, and patient person. I
never heard her say an unkind word about anyone. She was a quiet, sensitive woman who took
everything very seriously and who loved her Robert (Papa) and her three grandchildren, Steven,
David, and Jim. It was unfortunate that she didn’t live long enough to see any of her great
grandchildren or any of her grandchildren get married. I hope the boys remember their Grandma
Goepel. She loved them.
When Rachel came along with her natural curly hair it reminded me of Ruby right away.
Yes, her fair skin and beautiful hair has been passed on to our Rachel. It is wonderful to see how the
generations are so much the same. Ruby had a beautiful smile and her laugh was so happy. Yes, it is
wonderful to remember our loved ones and to see young ones coming along too.
BARBARA MAE GOEPEL
Born July 13, 1932 in Oakland, Alameda, CA
Married Robert B. Goepel Jr. April 7, 1952
Children:
Steven Robert Goepel born: November 9, 1953
David Lewis born September 21, 1956
James Boyd Goepel Born July27, 1958
Josh’s Birthday
May 24, 2005
It’s Josh Goepel’s birthday today. He is 26 years old. It doesn’t seem possible, how fast the years
go by. When I was 26, Jimmy, my youngest, was born. Josh is doing well though, making a future for
himself. At his age I didn’t think about the future much. Thought I’d always be a mom and have
someone to take care of me. Not that those things are bad, but there is more to life. Life is about,
giving and doing for other people, loving thy neighbor, being considerate of all people, and working
in the community. The family is so important though. The family isn’t as close as it used to be, but
people live differently now than they did fifty years ago. I will say that I am so proud of them and
their families. We can’t live their lives for them even though sometimes I want to because I think I
know what’s best, but I really don’t. I have to remember that God is in control. Thy will be done, not
my will.
Aunt Harriet
I loved listening to Aunt Harriet play the piano in the morning. She was a gifted pianist. She taught
piano lessons during the 50’s and 60’s. During the war she lived at home with Nannie and I always
loved to go and stay the night with them. I remember the smell of lilac fragrance in the morning and
waking up to Aunt Harriet’s beautiful piano music. What a beautiful memory.
July 13, 2005
Art Day. It’s early in the morning just a little after 6:00, but it’s warm and I couldn’t sleep any
longer. It will be a busy day with morning and afternoon art class so I thought I would get some
writing in.
Birthdays
Between the war, living in a neighborhood that lacked children my age, and having my
birthday land on a month when all my school friends seemed to disappear, my birthday celebrations
tended to be simple and quiet. There was no pin the tail on the donkey, but times were always happy.
We didn’t have much money, but Mamma always cooked something special at birthday time. Though
simple and quiet there are a few birthdays that I can still remember, one’s that were special to me.
It was my eighth birthday and my family and I were up at Eel River on our usual summer
vacation camping trip. We must have had something special to eat, but the box that I received from
Nannie is what I remember. The box she had sent up with my mother contained an assortment of
drawing paper, color crayons, pencils, and erasers. It was my first art set.
For my tenth birthday Uncle Walter sent me a card, but not just any card, this one had money
in it. I remember buying a red plaid skirt, two sweaters, and a savings bond.
Then sweet sixteen came along. Mamma cooked her famous spaghetti and I got to invite a
group of girls from school and church over. Us girls went to a show down town and then indulged
ourselves in spaghetti and Devil’s Food cake. I always loved the fluffy frosting on that chocolate
cake. My sixteenth year must have been a big one because that was the year Papa (Robert Goepel
Jr.) gave me a bracelet with my name engraved upon it. I still have the bracelet, think I’ll wear it
today and see if Papa notices it. He probably won’t.
Eleanor, Carol Lee, and Kool Aid Popsicles
There were only two girls to play with in my neighborhood, Eleanor and Carol Lee. It seemed
like we did more picking on each other and playing the two against one game, rather than having
fun. Eleanor was only a month older than me; I still remember her birthday, June 13th. It’s funny the
things you remember. We spent our summers outside, holding picnics in our back yards, eating
apricots and Kool Aid popsicles. At times we would scrap the ice off the ice truck just to keep cool.
Eleanor had a swing set and a plum tree in her backyard. Summer was a time to play. It was a time
of harvest, from apricots, to apples, to peaches and pears. When I think of summer I think of fruit.
School
I was always falling down and skinny my knees, but I never broke anything. I still have the
scars on my knees from falling on the gravel from jump rope. School was good; the war effected our
schooling though. We were always aware of the war and often times we had air raid drills. My third
grade teacher Miss Burton was from England and she had lost family members in the terrible
bombing raids. She would tell us stories about how the people were suffering there. Sometimes she
would cry. It was hard to see a teacher so upset. Miss Burton was my teacher for both third and
fourth grade.
Elementary school went from K to sixth grade, Jr. High was seventh through ninth and high
school was tenth through twelfth. The things that I liked about school were being with friends and
drawing. I loved it when my drawings got put up on the wall. Reading and arithmetic were hard for
me. I just wanted to play too much, I guess. I never was very serious about school. I tried to be good
in school but I wasn’t what you would call a good student. “Chatter box” is what Miss Burton would
write on my report card.
We were graded with S or X’s, I did get mostly S’s , I don’t think I ever got an X maybe an S-.
Sometimes I’d get an S+, which would always make me happy. In high school I usually got a C
average, but I always got an A in art and gym and I always received penmanship certificates.
Looking at my handwriting now you wouldn’t think that would have ever been possible. Receiving
the penmanship certificate was a big deal because I got to go up to the front of the auditorium and
have the principal give me the award. My dad always wanted to know why I couldn’t get a special
certificate for arithmetic. I don’t know why now and I didn’t then. I just wasn’t interested in math.
I always walked to school. In fact, everybody walked to school back then. There weren’t any
school buses or cars. Walking is what we did and we walked everywhere it seemed like. Walking to
school in the winter was my favorite because I could wear my rubber boots and slop along through
the puddles. I also looked forward to Field day, it happened every year in March, one day that was
set apart from all the rest. All the students would get dressed in their P.E. clothes and we would play
all sorts of games like: baseball, Rook ball, volleyball, and basketball.
Siblings
When I say we played, I am talking about me, my brother and my sister, plus all of our friends.
We played as one big group. I watched my little sister a lot. Mom could go to the store faster if she
didn’t have to take us. Ginny and I always shared a room. Jimmy got his own room because he was
a boy. I remember how I got mad because my little sister broke my dolls and made a mess in the
room, but that’s ok she is eight years younger than me so that’s to be expected. The worst was
cleaning out our closet that we shared; oh it was terrible, Ginny would save all kinds of things and
put them in brown bags. I call her the brown bag lady. We had lots of fun and love in our home.
Rosemary and Spirituality
When I was thirteen my life changed. It was the year I met Rosemary, a young Baptist girl
who often attended my church, the New Pilgrim Congregational Church. Rosemary’s mom thought
our church was too liberal, but that didn’t stop Rosemary, she wanted to come to our church. I
remember how Rosemary always compared her mom’s church to ours. Every Wednesday we went to
church choir practice, and sang together once Sunday came around. Knowing Rosemary was life
changing for me. As years went on, there ended up being a group of us that became special friends,
Nancy, Dorrie, Rosemary, Pat, Skippy, Bob and Bob. We still get together sometimes during the
year. We revert back to our youth talk about the old days.
Church was better than school because I got to sing. During my teenage years church was an
important part of my social and spiritual life. That changed when I got older. Though Bob and I were
married in the church and had our boys baptized when they were babies, we didn’t bring them up in
the church. Bob and I weren’t inclined to go to church on a regular basis. The only things I remember
doing regularly were night-time prayers. Sometimes we would say grace at the dinner table. My
church life was in and out all the time. I was looking for something, but didn’t know what it was. God
was always important in my life and Jesus too, but I had a hard time living a life of consistency. As
a child church wasn’t a regular family thing either. In fact, I don’t remember daddy going to church
until I was a teenager and even then he never went on a regular basis. Mom was brought up as a
Christian Scientist, as I have mentioned before, she felt guilty for not continuing in the faith after she
got married. I remember going to the Christian Church that was located across from my school. It
was convenient to go there, but I remember feeling alone. However, I’ve always had a deep belief in
God. I always knew He was present in my life. Just something I know.
With writing comes forgotten memories, however, this is enough writing for now. My feet are
going to sleep and my writing is getting bad again. It is going to be a hot day. Still thinking about
apricots, and my bracelet.