This is the last of the series of posts on Earle Dobson. Of course, none of our homestead players leave us for good. We can find them again when we want them. Earle will be back from time to time, and now that we know him a little better, he’ll seem more alive to us.
As
discussed, Earle was a good hobby photographer. On a July day in 1953, he set
his camera on a tripod in the grove and aimed it at the west side of the
woodshed. Then he posed the family and took a number of pictures. This one is
my personal favorite. Note that the camera was set on a timer and before Earle could
take his place, the photo was snapped. Undoubtedly everyone laughed. Note the
lanyard around Earle’s neck which held the light meter. Surrounding Ina are
five of her six children: Myrtle (Aunt Lynn), Vance, Earle, Ethel, and Shirley.
Pearl, the eldest, passed away in Seattle the previous November 1952.
The
photo to the right is of Uncle Earle with Marilyn Shockley, his niece (Shirley’s daughter),
taken at the farm in July 1964.
And
this last picture was taken at Aunt Ethel’s house on Brown Avenue in Orofino on
July 24, 1964. It’s identified on the back as Myrtle Dobson, Grace Miller
Jackson, Ethel Dobson Robinson, and Earle Dobson. On the bottom, Myrtle added in ink at a later date: “This was a happy day.” That just strikes me as poignant because she wanted me -- or no one in particular -- to know how happy she was. I
don’t know Grace Miller Jackson. Perhaps she also grew up at Gilbert. Perhaps the hours they spent reminiscing made all of them very happy.
Having
retired from teaching in Idaho Falls about 1960, Earle returned to Orofino. He
lived at our house for a short time. Eventually he rented a
house in Nezperce where he and sister Myrtle lived comfortably for several
years. From Nezperce it was an easy 17-mile drive to the old family home at
Gilbert, and I know they enjoyed spending time there. I suspect it was they who
planted the beautiful daffodils that rim the grove in the spring.
Earle
passed away in October 1975 in Orofino, Idaho, of Parkinson’s disease. KW
8 comments:
They look like such nice people. So, your aunt lived very close by? Didn't you grow up on Brown? Did you see her often?
It's fun to compare the photo of the young children from the earlier post to this one. How old was Ina when she had her first child?
Yes, Aunt Ethel and Uncle Ernest lived at the other end of the block from us. Actually, you can just see our house in this picture. You can see the first white house quite plainly, and beyond it another white house. Then, you can just see the dormer of our house. The maple tree was in our parking strip on D Street.
Ina was born in November 1870 so was just turning 23 when Pearl was born, I believe. In the earlier picture you mention, she was in her early 30s.
They were nice people. I think of them as people-oriented. They loved to talk. I have some guilt for my feelings that they were really quite old-fashioned and dated in outlook. You know, in that day and age, senior citizens seemed older than our seniors of today.
As I have mentioned before, I remember saying "Hi" to them on our way to and from school. In good weather they would be on the porch and to me they were "Aunt Ethel and Uncle Ernest", too. :-) Now where their house was is the Catholic Church's center and parking lot.
I am always happy to see someone write a few words about their feelings at the time the photo was taken. So sweet of Myrtle to add a comment about their get together. When we look at old snapshots, we often don't have a clue why the people were together or even if they wanted to be there(forced family reunions happen in every family).
Yes, both houses on the corner, Aunt Ethel's and the one behind, were sold to the Catholic church and then demolished to make place for their social center. And if I may say so, there goes the integrity of the neighborhood, but we have to have renewal of some sort if neighborhoods are deteriorating.
Yes, Aunt Ethel and Uncle Ernest were there and actively watching. We have talked about this before, but my mother watched me as I walked back and forth to Grandpa Portfors' house (kitty corner from Aunt Ethel's) to watch tv in the evenings, and Uncle Ernest, realizing the regularity of my movements, also began to watch for me. He was a retired lawman.
Kathy, I so envy your history of the homeplace that you still occupy. Although I have lots of history of my family from my mum, there is no "place" to which it is attached. Lucky you & yours. I enjoy the stories.
Home isn't always a place. Home is where your family is.
"Home is where the heart is," as they say. And today I bought a little sign at Dollar Tree that says, "Home . . . where our story begins."
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