DAY 2 -- A FARMHOUSE CHRISTMAS

Jack is honest, hardworking, ambitious, independent, public-spirited. Wanted to carve his own way and not work for someone else, wanted his sons to do likewise, and never wanted his daughters to work for others. He’s always been strictly decent, does not believe in “filthy communication.” -- Ina Dobson

Remember – We’re imagining it’s December 1930 at a farmhouse on Russell Ridge in remote central Idaho, observing Christmas preparations with my paternal grandmother, Ina Dobson (1870-1957).

It had turned cold. The fog rose up from the river and settled on the ridge. Ina could barely make out the barn. The day was dark and dreary – “a dull day,” as she called it, and as Shirley ironed away by the cookstove, Ina’s thoughts drifted back over the years. Christmas is a nostalgic time, and sometimes memories rest uneasily.

She and Jack (Julian) had married in a double ceremony with her sister Bertha and Jack’s twin brother Junius on Christmas Day, 1891. It was a small affair held at her parents’ home. A few neighbors dropped in to wish them well and have a piece of Ma’s pork cake.

Actually, their marriage was not a love match. Circumstances had brought them together, and it seemed natural that they should marry. Pa was anxious that she and Bertha should marry and form their own households, so their marriages were arranged. Ina had understood the situation and supported Jack’s goal of owning his own land and being his own man, made possible when the reservation opened in 1895.

So, she and Jack had worked together to establish a family, prove up on the land, and make a working farm. She had done her part and had no regrets. They had known from the beginning that it wouldn’t make them rich. It was subsistence living but a good life nevertheless.

In 1930, Ina was 60 and Jack was 66. The future seemed uncertain, especially since the stock market crash the previous year and the ensuing recession. But Ina knew it was no use to think of these things. Instead, she shook herself free of her reverie and turning to the box of Christmas cards before her, she began to compose a newsy holiday letter to her aunt in Iowa. KW