My “Grand Parents” by Hayden Ayers

My “Grand Parents” by Hayden Ayers

Memories of Times Past
by Pauline Ann Beauchamp

In the beginning there was my mother, Jennie Margaret Marvin, and my father, Theodore George Deggendorfer. They met at a boarding house my maternal grandparents operated. The prospect of their marriage sparked objections from both families: Grandparents Marvin were Protestant and very involved in the Masons; Grandparents Deggendorfer were strong old country Roman Catholics.

When Dad established himself in a new job position, he and mother eloped. They were married Feb. 23, 1924, at a Methodist Church in Spokane, Washington. They kept their marriage a secret because in those days, my mother as a female teacher would have lost her job immediately. When I was born, May 11, 1930, my parents and my older sister Margaret were living in a two-bedroom downstairs apartment in an alley behind the home of our landlord and family physician, Dr. Mason. She and I shared a bedroom. Then Ted was born, 20 months after me, and his crib was put in our room. The room was crowded with no place to play. Fortunately a long screened-in porch along one side of the building provided space for a wringer washing machine, a clothesline, a swing and a large area in which to run and play. One time, play turned into an argument and Margaret and Ted ganged up on me, pushing me in the swing very hard. I went flying, hit the washing machine and cut a gash over my left eyebrow. Dr. Mason was called. I was very brave while the stitches were sewn. I must have been three or four years old.

We also were allowed to play in the Masons’ large grassy yard. One spring Ted and I were there and saw what looked to be onions to us. Without asking anyone, we harvested them. To our disappointment and shame, we had dug up the Mason’s newly planted flower bulbs. We had to take them to their front door and apologize—a good deed gone awry.

Ted and I were very close. He never spoke much until he was three years old. He did not have to. I could understand most of what he wanted or needed and spoke for him. Apparently it did not hurt his development. When he did start speaking for himself, he spoke in full sentences.

My “Grand Parents” by Hayden Ayers
	Memories of Times Past by Pauline Ann Beauchamp
	In the beginning there was my mother, Jennie Margaret Marvin, and my father, Theodore George Deggendorfer. They met at a boarding house my maternal grandparents operated. The prospect of their marriage sparked objections from both families: Grandparents Marvin were Protestant and very involved in the Masons; Grandparents Deggendorfer were strong old country Roman Catholics. When Dad established himself in a new job position, he and mother eloped. They were married Feb. 23, 1924, at a Methodist Church in Spokane, Washington. They kept their marriage a secret because in those days, my mother as a female teacher would have lost her job immediately. When I was born, May 11, 1930, my parents and my older sister Margaret were living in a two-bedroom downstairs apartment in an alley behind the home of our landlord and family physician, Dr. Mason. She and I shared a bedroom. Then Ted was born, 20 months after me, and his crib was put in our room. The room was crowded with no place to play. Fortunately a long screened-in porch along one side of the building provided space for a wringer washing machine, a clothesline, a swing and a large area in which to run and play. One time, play turned into an argument and Margaret and Ted ganged up on me, pushing me in the swing very hard. I went flying, hit the washing machine and cut a gash over my left eyebrow. Dr. Mason was called. I was very brave while the stitches were sewn. I must have been three or four years old. We also were allowed to play in the Masons’ large grassy yard. One spring Ted and I were there and saw what looked to be onions to us. Without asking anyone, we harvested them. To our disappointment and shame, we had dug up the Mason’s newly planted flower bulbs. We had to take them to their front door and apologize—a good deed gone awry. Ted and I were very close. He never spoke much until he was three years old. He did not have to. I could understand most of what he wanted or needed and spoke for him. Apparently it did not hurt his development. When he did start speaking for himself, he spoke in full sentences.