This is just a bit of Ron Winkler's memories. I left spelling and grammar intact, it's part of his voice. This stream-of-consiousness style is a great way to let those remembrances just come out. No need to create your own obstacles of writing style or spelling. Good job, Dad... Here he is:
Life started in 1938 in Corte Madera, California. I don't remember too many things about our house except the key hanging on the wall of the garage above the garbage can. Apparently I was into garbage at an early age.
Will and Mora lived next to us. Will went into the Army during the second war and Mora moved to an Apartment in San Francisco. My mother and I went there to visit. Years later, Will and Mora moved to Martinez. They had a daughter by the name of Ann. We went from Kentfield to Martinez every couple of months for a Bar-b-que. Ann and I went up to the train trestle to watch the train come by.
I was thinking back about visits with my grand parents.
Catherine and Frank Ambrose lived in
Petaluma, California. They had a farmhouse and a garage in the back, an enclosed back porch and a big kitchen. I remember Frank sitting in his rocking chair - I was sitting on his lap. He was also cooking mushrooms so maybe the event was Thanksgiving dinner. His wife, Catherine, also called Caty was there but I don't remember anything about her. Some years later, Caty came to our (my folks ) house in Kentfield to stay, It was the same year that Franklin Roosevelt died - maybe 1945. I would have been 7 years old then. Caty later developed some difficulty in talking and later, she became hard to handle and my mom ( daughter Rowena ) had to put her in a rest home in Lucas Valley where she later died.
Caty's other daughter,
Alice, (Rowena's sister) also lived in Kentfield. She had two daughters - Alice and Shirley. In 1945, they were staying in an orphanage in San Anselmo. But, somehow, they didn't get an invite to our house in Kentfield and that blame rested with my father. I don't know what his objection would have been. Alice and Shirley never forgot that. Alice married later and lives with her husband (Dan ) in Marin County. No children. Shirley also married but her husband died and she never remarried. They had one son, Nickelous.
Alice Krogman was a neat person. I used to see her all the time. She worked at the Roger Kent estate in Kentfield. Roger was a congressman ( I thought ) in Sacramento but Shirley seems to remember as just an attorney. His two daughters ( Alice and Molly ) went to the same grammar school as I did - called the Adeline E. Kent school. Adeline was Roger's sister. Yes, everyone was related.
In case it seems confusing, there was Alice Krogman, her daughter named Alice and Alice Kent. Roger Kent's place was the largest in Kent Woodlands. He had a big Olympic sized swimming pool with six lanes. Also a tennis court. There were many local events held there. Roger had many special guests there also, big names in the Democratic party. Alice Krogman was the chief cook for those events. The table was long - maybe sat 20 people. Also, before my time, Alice was bought along to Hawaii to take care of the Kids. She stayed there for some time.
At Alice Krogman's place, she had other relatives visit there. There was Nita, Colleen, Lynn, and Rowena.
Nita and Don lived in San Rafael,
Lynn and Bill Bergeron lived in Fairfield (Bill was in the Air Force) Bill was the co-pilot of the B-17 crew called "the candy bomber" that flew the airlift into Germany. And of course
Bud and Rowena lived in Kentfield. Bud worked at the shipyards in Sausalito during World War Two.
There was also
Kathleen and Sam Guerin who lived in San Francisco then later, Sparks, Nevada where they had a health food store. Kathleen's daughter was Lynn (Bergeron)
Two other people were always in my life during those years. That was
Fagan and Bill. They lived on 208 Monte Vista Avenue in Larkspur, California. They were always "were", like grand parents. I think friends of my father's mother when she lived in Corte Madera. Fagan was a switchboard operator for the town of Larkspur and Uncle Bill was the treasurer for the city of Larkspur. But his expertise was a calligrapher for the city documents. He used pen and ink - not ball point pens. He had a very special writing style from the 1880's era. We went to their house for dinner once week then the next week they would come to our house. That was before television. When at their house, I would go into the family room after dinner and listen to the radio programs: Amos and Andy, The Bob Hope show, Fiber Magee and Molly, the Lone Ranger, the Shadow and others. The grown-ups would play cards until midnight.
Last but not least were my dad's mother and her husband -
Alice and Roy. They lived in a small house in Richmond, California. There was no bridge so we took the ferry boat to get there. My dad had a 1932 Pontiac. We went there for all day events. Usually Aunt Emmy and Uncle Al and their son Bobbie would come over from San Francisco. Emmy was my dad's sister or Alice's daughter. They would play cards until the late hours. During the summer, I was invited to stay there for one or two weeks. I pal'd around with the boy across the street - his name was Jack. His dad looked and sounded like Anthony Quinn. I liked Alice. I could talk with her about anything. I liked the type of answers she gave me. She was always happy to see me. And she was a great cook too.
We also went to
Emmy and Al's place on Park Street in San Francisco. They had a row house, a two-story with a full basement. We always went there for Christmas day. My cousin Bob was 2 years older than I was and very wise in city ways. By comparison, we lived in the country with open lots and fruit trees to be picked. But things did not go well there. Emmy and Al eventually got divorced and after 1956, Bobbie committed suicide. Emmy remarried to Angelo Gatorna and I went there to visit ( when I was working at Bechtel ) up to 1962.
Renee and Trav lived in North Hollywood. On special occasion, they came to Richmond or we went down there, like in 1952 - in my dad's new black '51 Mercury car. Renee was Alice's other daughter or my dad's sister. ( There was Buddie, Emmy and Renee ) Renee had a daughter (adopted) called Jackie - she is 8 years younger than me. We have always kept in contact with each other. When I was at Edwards Air Force base (1956), I went to Renee and Trav's for Thanksgiving dinner.
Walter Joos was a retired Air Force major ( I think a cousin of my father) Since we each had an Air Force background, we spent some times together. He was called Uncle Walt. Renee was a close relative and they wrote to each other during WW2. Walt was a navigator on B-17s over Germany. Walt and I went to Renee's for a New Year's day Rose Bowl football game. We had a great time.
Another favorite was
Eleanor and Earl - they lived in Hammond. Louisanna. And they had a daughter by the name of Sheilah. I always liked Eleanore (my mother's sister ) Earl was a highway contractor - he wore a hearing aide and he was hard to know.. He didn't like any of Eleanor's family line. I found out later that he was not friendly to his wife or his daughter. This came out after he died. Eleanore and Sheilah kept the house on North Pine street. But in 2004, Eleanore went into the hospital then died in July 2006. Sheilah has not spoken to me for many years. I don't know why. She has spoken to Karen and Marc.
Alice is another cousin who will not speak to me - since my mother died. Shirley (sister of Alice) is a good person - we were always close over the years. Shirley is about 10 years older than me.
In closing this time period, I should mention a few things about living at home. It seemed peacefull early on. Dad belonged to the
Corte Madera fire department as a fire fighter. I have a picture with me sitting on an early vintage fire truck. Dad worked at the
Marinship ship yards then, later, for
Litchfield Constrution Company in San Rafael. Dad helped build the new addition to the
Adeline Kent grammer school. That was the time that the movie
"Blood Alley" with Lauren Bacall and John Wayne, was made at China Camp. Dad worked on that - I was in the 8th grade. We had an Austrialn Shepard dog who was jealous of me and growled whenever I was near her. The next dog was a Doberman Pincher. Cute as a puppy but became angry when my dad got near my mom. They ended up giving the dog away to a trainer.
Grammer school had its ups and downs. I can still name a few people from those 8 years. Some have died already. Jim Schultz and Margaret Brooks I still keep in contact with. As I approached the 8th grade, I realized some difficulty with Math. I was just a "C" student( If I was luckey) Margaret and her pals always got "A's". Our 7th grade teacher was Ray Monson, He later became the grammar school principal in Novato (Pleasant Valley School ) where our kids went to school.
My mother used some extreme measures to control me. Drop the pants and beat me across the butt. Later came the razor strap - 4" wide 1/4" thick and 3 feet long. She saw I was resisting that so she complained to my dad and he cut the bottom 12 inches into thin strips. That DID hurt ! My dad wanted me home by 6pm. I would wait across the street (by then 6pm) waiting for the cars to pass so I could cross to our driveway. My dad stood in the driveway taking his belt loose - getting ready to deal out his punishment.
So I made it thru all that business then went thru 4 years of high school. I played basket ball, had a Saturday gardening job, got a car which was a '48 Plymouth. Girl friends were Cathy Silcox and Gloria Ongaro. The summer of 1956, my graduation year, I worked at a summer camp for boys, met Laverne Hardy ( a separate story) then went on active duty with the Air Force doing helicopter Maintenance and search and rescue. (which is also another story).
Someplace, I should add an interesting observation. During grammer school and high school, all my relatives were older to the point, alot of them died. My dad, Uncle Walt, his brother (Bud Joos) and I were frequently Pall Bearers at funerals. I never thought much of the occassion other than another event to meet living family members. However, as time went along, I met other people my age who had never been to a funeral, much less a pall bearer. Part of life's many lessons.
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