Jason Confirms Grandma Graduated Lynden High School Class Of 1950

A couple days ago a caller called from the Skagit Valley who had heard from a fellow church member that my mom was no longer among the living. That caller had not seen a notice confirming this in the Skagit Valley Herald, hence the call.

About the same time as that caller calling from the Skagit Valley, my FNJ, he being Spencer Jack's dad, Jason, text messaged me asking if I knew what year mom graduated high school, and if Lynden High School was correct.

I replied that he had the high school correct, and that I would guess the year to be 1950 or 1951. I also told Jason that his dad and his aunt Jackie had discovered his grandma and grandpa's high school yearbooks whilst going through that which needed to be gone through in mom and dad's former Sun Lakes home.

And that Jason might be able to ask his dad to check grandma's yearbook to confirm the graduation date.

I assumed Jason was making these inquiries because he was working on the notice to go in the Skagit Valley Herald, and Whatcom County newspapers. I assumed such because Jason had done an excellent job of this for his grandpa, back in 2017. If history repeats I likely will be sent a copy for fact checking prior to publication.

Then, last night, Jason emailed with the below message, and the above photo...

FUD -- Don't be confused by this photo: It is not Aunt Nancy's driver's license picture from the early 1970s. Rather the gal in the picture sporting a healthy coat of lipstick is your mother. I received this from Sun Lakes this morning, confirming that Grandma was a member of the Lynden High School Class of 1950.

________________

This suggests to me that Spencer Jack and Hank Frank's grandpa Jake had used mom's yearbook to confirm the graduation date, and take the above photo via his phone.

I wish I had known those yearbooks still existed whilst I was visiting mom multiple times the past couple years. Long ago, maybe when I was a teenager, I recollect mom and dad going through their yearbooks with me and my siblings, and way back then it was amusing.

The past couple years mom was real sharp about remembering details from long ago. The present moment, not so much. Going through those yearbooks would have been a good thing. Who knows what mom might have remembered and told me?

I think it was during my visit to Arizona in July of 2018 that I asked mom about the time mom and dad drove across the country to New York City. I had heard some of that tale in years previous, but never to the level of detail I heard it that summer of 2018. I asked about this at that point in time because I thought mom had somehow traveled solo to NYC to meet dad, and I just could not picture my mom doing something like that.

Well, she didn't, which I learned when mom told me the whole story.

Dad was stationed in Germany. The year was 1951. Dad's dad died. The army sent dad home for the funeral. Mom did not remember by what means dad crossed the country, but she did remember being in a wedding party, in Lynden, getting a phone call from dad, with dad telling mom he was at the bus station in Bellingham, and could mom come pick him up.

Mom rushed out of the wedding, broke the speed limit to Bellingham. Mom did not remember how long dad's leave was. But, at some specific date he was supposed to report back in New York City to be shipped back to Europe.

But, I asked mom, if dad was supposed to go back to Europe what were you gonna do to get back to Washington, after dad sailed away? Mom's answer to that question really surprised me. Mom said that they were young and did not know what they were doing, that they thought mom could go back to Europe with dad. Did you have a passport, I asked? A visa? How did you think you could go to Europe with dad? We just thought it would work out was mom's answer.

They hung out in NYC for several days, waiting dad's orders, staying with a relative who worked in some sort of church type place on Manhattan. And then dad got his orders. He was being mustered out of the army.

So, mom and dad decided to drive back home, via the southern route, through the Deep South, including Texas.

That is the short version of the tale mom told me. One detail sticks in my memory. They drove though Las Vegas, which was not much of a town back then, heading to Death Valley. They had somehow heard that one needs a lot to drink if one tries to drive through Death Valley.

They naively somehow thought this meant an alcohol based drink. Neither mom or dad were ever alcohol consumers, but they bought a six pack of beer to take into Death Valley. At some point the car over heated. Waiting for it to cool down they got out the beer. Opening one, dad took a drink, spit it out, said that is awful. Then mom took a drink and had the same reaction.

Years later, on July 25, 2019, mom said pizza sounded good. I said, you wanna bake pizza here or do the takeout thing? Mom said whatever you want. I said I prefer to bake it myself. So, I drove Miss Daisy to WinCo where we found a bake it yourself pizza. I then said beer and pizza sounded good. So, I got a big bottle of beer.

Back at mom's I baked the pizza, put a slice on a plate, for mom, and also poured a little beer into a coffee cup. Mom took one sip of the beer, spit it out, and said that is awful.

Maybe this is how mom reacted to beer when it is consumed in a desert, what with Death Valley being in a desert, and the Arizona Valley of the Sun being in another desert...