HARD-TIMES WEDDING

Here's another set of wedding photos, and again I have no written information about the day. But if a picture is worth a thousand words, surely we can deduce something about that day. And, of course, I do have general knowledge of the people and the place.

The bride is my dad's younger sister, Shirley Dobson. The groom is Henry Shockley. I know from my grandmother's letters that Henry began to "come around" in 1932 at the suggestion of a neighbor. Shirley was already 25, so perhaps the neighbor saw a pleasant young woman living at home with her mother and father – a young woman who truly would sink into spinsterhood unless someone tried to help. No harm done, as they say. In fact, when Grandma Ina wrote to my dad about Henry's calls, that's exactly what she said – "no harm done."

Shirley and Henry courted for the next five years. He accompanied her to such activities as the young adults had in the Gilbert community – mostly a "literary society" that met at the school under the leadership of the teacher. They developed programs and plays. And they also met in one another's homes of an evening to listen to the radio and play games like anagrams. There were probably not ten such "young unmarrieds" in the area.

On June 24, 1937, the bride and groom met at the home of the bride's parents for a quiet wedding. The bride is wearing a lovely new suit in the style of the day – an outfit that will serve her well in the future. In my mind's eye the suit is gray or light blue. Perhaps the groom has a new suit as well. Undoubtedly they spent money they themselves had saved. Times on the farm are now lean for the old couple, but Grandma Ina and Grandpa Jack are wearing their best "church" clothes.

Shirley's only attendant was her older sister, Myrtle, the family's second child. Myrtle, a single woman of 40, lived and worked in Portland, so she arranged to come for the wedding. I think she bought a new dress for the wedding – something she could wear again. Note the sleeves – very stylish! You can tell they feel very "with it." And it appears that the bride's brother, Earle Dobson, served as best man. Earle was a school teacher in Idaho Falls but returned to the farm during the summer months to help with the harvest.

Of course, I have many questions about that day. Who officiated the ceremony? Was the ceremony in the house before the fireplace or in the yard? Were the neighbors invited? Was there a reception? Did they have a cake? Maybe there was a wedding supper. There's no one to ask. Everyone who might know is gone.

Within a few years, Shirley and Henry would move to Seattle where he worked for Boeing until his retirement. They raised two daughters, Roberta and Marilyn, with whom I have lost contact.

Sometimes I wonder to myself why Shirley and Henry waited so long to marry. Perhaps they couldn't afford to establish their own home sooner. When I worked at the museum, one of my very good volunteer board members related that she and her beau waited many years before marrying, maintaining a long-distance romance through correspondence. It seemed to me that such waiting constituted a waste of youth, so I asked my friend why they had waited so long. With a sniff and a toss of her head, she said, "There were things to be done." Perhaps Henry and Shirley also had "things to be done" before they could marry.

WEDDING COORDINATOR

My mother hit her stride as a wedding coordinator when her eldest daughters married in the 1950s. It was clear that she expected to hold for her daughters the church weddings that hadn't been hers. Even when I suggested my wedding (1975) might take place in the backyard, Mother insisted on a church wedding.

When Joni married in 1956, Mother made the bride's gown as well as those of the attendants. She wrote to an eastern fabric house requesting swatches of satins and sheers in shades of pink ranging from baby pink (the flower girl -- my dress) to deep peach (Harriet's dress – the matron of honor). They complied and Mother ordered the fabric accordingly. She was proud of the fact that she had reached beyond her rural Idaho world clear to New York City to achieve her vision for the wedding.

At 5'2", the bride weighed 96 pounds and thus was stylishly tiny. (Think Audrey Hepburn.) Her gown was a beautiful embroidered crystalline over satin in the "wasp-waist" style of that day. The gown was so small that 25 years later when the dress was worn at a vintage wedding gown style show, they had to find a tiny high school student to model it. At some point after that Joni had the dress cleaned and the crystalline went to pieces. The veil also went to shreds. As beautiful as it was, it was not a dress for the ages.

Congratulations to Joni and Pat – June 11, 1956 -- 53 years.

[The photo is of my mother, Dorothy Dobson, carrying the bride's clothes to the car. Someone called out, "Here comes the bride!" Rice was thrown. To my six-year-old mind, it was funny that someone thought she was the bride. "It was a joke," Mother explained to me later. "No one thought I was the bride." That's me standing at the lower right-hand corner of the photo.

Oh -- and Mother's dress: She bought that dress -- a lovely off-white linen with a shawl collar embellished with pink beading. It was really a beautiful dress. We let it go when we cleaned out her house in 1991. What were we thinking!] KW

MIKE & KATHY – 34 YEARS AND COUNTING

Mike and I congratulated each other on 34 years together and agreed to continue along together on this great adventure.

My wedding photos were in color, except for this one black and white which was taken for the newspaper. Of the photos of the two of us, it's my favorite and the one I display. A couple of years ago, grandson Jack visited us with his dad when he spied this photo on my dresser. "Who are these people?" he asked his dad. Yancey didn't immediately enlighten him. "Who do you think they might be? Whose house is this?" Jack was incredulous to think that young couple could be Gramma Kathy and Grandpa Mike.

As I was getting lunch today, I happened to think of our 15^th anniversary in 1990. A bouquet of flowers from Mike was delivered to me at the museum where I worked. Lora, my co-worker, commented on them, and I replied that Mike didn't send flowers often but this anniversary – our 15^th – seemed kinda special. Lora came back with, "Kathy! Do you know how long I've been married? 34 years! Now that's special."

Funny I thought of that forgotten incident today because I read in today's paper that Lora's husband, Don, passed away yesterday. KW

BRIDAL REGISTRY

China – silver – crystal – so many choices. When I married in 1975, I already had a service for twelve in the Lennox Rutledge pattern that had been my maternal grandmother's. My parents saw to it we also had "twelves" in a new set of crystal – goblets, sherbets, plates, and a pitcher. I was ambivalent about all of it, appreciating its beauty but also wondering about the future in a world that seemed to be growing more and more casual. The Lennox was a dubious blessing. Manufactured in the 1940s, it is not dishwasher-safe. And then there's the question of sentimentality. Was I really going to have dinner parties, serve small children on heirloom china, set a formal table for holiday dinners or even fix a romantic dinner for two? My parents assured me the day would come when I would draw on these things as important resources. None of that happened – and isn't going to.

As we were about to move from the "big house" in 2004, I read an article in The Christian Science Monitor titled, "A Tempest Brews in Heirloom Teacups," written by columnist Marilyn Gardner. (Here's the link if you'd like to read it for yourself -- . http://www.csmonitor.com/2004/0414/p13s01-cogn.htm.) The article sets forth that the younger generation is saying no to grandma's china, stemware, and other heirlooms treasured by previous generations, that antique dealers have more of these items than they can sell, and that even for traditionalists (and I consider myself a traditionalist), tastes change. These were ideas that were timely for me because I had to pack up boxes and boxes of china, crystal, heirloom breakables and move them into storage until they could be moved to their next home. I was confused – these things honestly felt like a huge burden. I had to take them with me. Even so, I couldn't – and still wouldn't – part with them.

Once we were settled after the big move, I actually served supper on the Lennox, dutifully washing, drying, and carefully setting it back on the shelf. I honestly believe it should be used, that it's good for it to be handled, but it seemed kinda silly – two tired people, sometimes wearing pajamas, eating off the "good china" and then taking the time to wash the dishes. I suggested to daughter Hallie that she take some of it. After all, I will never serve twelve people at one time. She just looked at me, probably because she lives in 615 square feet – or something like that. And ironically, as many dishes as we had at our disposal, we were at the point of needing some good serviceable, everyday tableware. Again, the choices seemed endless, but I finally selected a few pieces in a very basic white pottery. I also came to see that I didn't have to buy eight or twelve place settings -- that I could vary my table by purchasing just two plates in any pattern I desired – any pattern at all. And you know, having given myself permission, I never have.

[Stepson Murray and I are looking over the gifts at my wedding, May 23, 1975.] KW

A HOMESTEAD WEDDING -- 1921

MISS ETHEL LUCY DOBSON WEDS ERNEST ROBINSON IN CEREMONY AT GILBERT, IDAHO

In a ceremony at the home of her parents, Miss Ethel Lucy Dobson became the bride of Ernest Robinson on May 17, 1921. The bride is the daughter of Julian (Jack) and Ina Dickson Dobson, pioneer homesteaders in the Gilbert area near Orofino, Idaho.

And that's all I know about the wedding. No one ever told me about that day. I have no written material about it. I found the photos only a few years ago – dated but unidentified. This first photo is of the bride with her family (l. to r.): Myrtle, her older sister and maid of honor; Vance (my father); Irl (Earle); Ina (her mother); Shirley (the youngest); and Jack (the bride's father). The backdrop is the grove behind the house.

This photo includes the combined families of Jack and June Dobson who lived on adjoining homesteads. I believe the lady to the bride's left is the groom's mother. Just behind the bride is Vance, my dad, I believe, and just behind him is the face of Jack, his dad. Looking closely to the right, you can spot a similar face just above the bow in Shirley's hair; that's June Dobson, Jack's twin brother. ( Or perhaps it's vice versa; I really wouldn't know.) Note the lady in the satin dress standing to Shirley's left. That's Aunt Bertha, Ina's sister and June's wife, whose attire seems suitable for the mother of the bride.

Here the bride and groom stand on the front steps of the farmhouse, which was just four years old at the time, the same house that Mike and I have renovated. You can just make out that they have yet to put in a yard. Behind the bride and groom are Irl, Myrtle, Ina, Jack, Vance, and Shirley. Absent from the photos is the oldest daughter, Pearl, who at that time lived in Alberta, Canada, with her husband and baby son.

And here the young couple seem to be leaving on their honeymoon. Perhaps there was some joke.

So, just looking at these photos, what conclusions do you draw? KW

WEDDING GOWN STORIES

Seems like every woman knows at least one wedding dress story. Mention that there's a wedding coming up, and the stories come out.

"My daughter was just out of high school when she got married," related a friend. "We didn't have a lot of money at that time, so I told her I would make her dress. But I thought it best to take her to the bridal shop first in order to get some idea of the style she would like. Then we went to the fabric store to look at patterns, and I could tell by the look on her face that she was not going to forget a certain dress at the shop. We went back and bought that gown."

"When I got married, I couldn't afford a wedding dress," said another friend. "I bought a white formal, and it had a little pink trim over the bodice and matching trim at the hemline. People could see it wasn't a wedding dress," she added ruefully, "but I just couldn't afford one."

One of my favorite stories is that of Mike's sister, Carol. In the mid-'70s she bought a gown both she and her mother just loved for its simple styling. Wedding plans at that time fell through, and she eventually sold the dress to a friend with the understanding that someday she might want to buy it back. And that's what happened. When she and Max were married in 1981, she wore that gown.

[These photos were taken May 16, 1981. Photo 1 is of Carol and her brother, Mike, who gave her away. Photo 2 is of Carol, Mike, and Mother Bennie. And photo 3 is of the happy couple, Max and Carol Williams.]

HAPPY 28th ANNIVERSARY, CAROL AND MAX!

OLD-TIME WEDDING CAKE

The oldest family wedding of which I have knowledge was that of Uncle Ed and Aunt Ida. Ida was Grandma Ina's older sister. Ina writes of the wedding as follows:

"Ed and Ida were married that winter, December 14, 1879, in Kansas. He had added a small addition to the house, which was of sod, for a bedroom for them. The wedding was a simple affair; the only guests were one neighbor family. The woman, Sevilla Maxfield, helped in dressing the bride and preparing the wedding dinner. I recall of that dinner only the wedding cake. It was a large one made by Ma – her favorite 'pork cake,' and of course, it was 'frosted.' They were married by a justice of the peace who skated up the river from his home to ours. Mr. Maxfield's brother dropped in at our place soon after the wedding ceremony was over. I recall his cheerful manner and good-looking face, and how he said, "Lord bless me, I must kiss the bride!" which he did without more ado and in good style. We rather suspected that he may have wished himself the bride-groom." By the way, according to my calculations, Ida was 15 in 1879. Ed was much older. They eventually settled in Drain, Oregon, and had a long life together.

The photo above is of Lafe and Lucy Dickson, my great-grandparents, in 1903. Lucy is the "Ma" mentioned in the paragraph above. My dad used to chuckle that in all their photos, Grandpa Dickson would hold their marriage license while Grandma held the Bible.

Wednesday is "recipe day" according to my newly ordered household system. On recipe day I not only organize recipes but have the option of a recipe adventure. Today I baked my Great-Grandmother Dickson's pork cake, an experience I've been looking forward to.

First, I thawed the pork fat I've been saving when Mike trimmed pork chops. Finding that I had only enough for half a recipe, I decided that was probably enough anyway. This cake won't be low in "sat fat." Since Ina's recipe lacked method, baking temperature, and flour, I checked online for some ideas. The recipe called for me to run the fat twice through a food chopper, but I cheated and used my food processor. The result was not a pretty. [See photo right.] I made a cup of instant coffee, added a teaspoon of soda, then poured that liquid over the fat. While that cooled, I grated the rind of an orange. At this point I began to use the mixer, a luxury my grandmothers didn't have. I added molasses and sugars, then the dry ingredients, the orange peel, raisins, citron (I used Radiant mix), and the almond meats I had chopped earlier.

Sad to say, the cake is darker on the bottom than I would have wished, even though I cut the heat. But it's edible and really quite tasty, if you like fruitcake. I think I'll frost it with a browned butter frosting.

Would I do it again? Yes! I had a good time. KW

MOTHER OF THE BRIDE

My excited daughter called last night to say she received an engagement ring for her birthday. Often throughout the day – her birthday – I had thought of the tiny baby girl she had been when she came to us that day 27 years ago. And then I thought of the wise and wonderful little girl she had been. As a kindergartner she said to me, "I will be in school all day next year. You will have to find something to do." So, I did. I got a job. And that same 5-year-old gave Grandma Bennie directions to the grocery store when I was sick.

I spent the day thinking of these things from the past. And then the reality check -- the big girl called and said she has a beautiful diamond from Tiffany's and is going to get married. Apparently plans for the actual event have not been determined. "Well, you and Nick talk it over," I said, "and we'll help you, but you decide what you want."

Of course, I'm not ready. There won't be time, I lament to myself, to do all the special things I wanted to do for my daughter, the bride. I should have started last year – or the year before that. What about this? What about that? But, of course, "this" and "that" are not important. And it's not about the mother of the bride. KW