LEOINE DAISY HALE

Laconia, New Hampshire

1909- 1974

Edited by Don W Woodworth

Privately Published by DMT Publishing 

North Salt Lake, Utah

July 1, 2000

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

That my mother had such a large and loving circle of family and friends is deeply gratifying.  Their many contributions have made this account of her life far richer than I could have hoped.

As editor, I must take responsibility for both the arrangement and the accuracy of the text. I wrote the sections on her early life and the family to 1947; edited and proofread the several drafts; reproduced the photographs digitally from the originals or good copies.

Ruth (Woodworth) Criger wrote the section covering 1947-1974; selected and arranged the photographs; provided the letters and recipes.

Anne (Woodworth) Richardson initiated this project in a letter we sent to everyone we thought would like to join us. She typed the early drafts; provided photographs; consulted at length on names, dates, and Lakeport life.

Steve Woodworth provided information about his mother in Lakeport and West Ossipee. Joan St. Louis recalled her years at 921 Union Avenue, and the visits Leoine made to California and Florida to see her.

Ethel (Duff) Morgan of Bristol, NH gave four albums of photographs of Hyde and Hale ancestors, our best source for the early years, 1910 -1930.  Among our first informants, sharing valuable stories, were cousins Ethel Morgan, Cora (Hale) Kimball, and Edwyna (Hale) Chapman, and brother-in-law Roy Buzzell.

In addition, we thank the grandchildren for writing at our request and for their encouragement: Tamber Woodworth, Ted Woodworth, Bethany Woodworth, Bayard Woodworth, Coral (Richardson) Theberge, Scott Richardson, Todd Richardson, Randy Richardson, Blythe (Richardson) Gustafson, Steven D. Woodworth, and Amanda Mclntire. Belinda Dupuis. a granddaughter by adoption, responded to our call, as did Marge Lachance, a coworker at the Water Company and researcher at the Laconia Historical Museum. Norma Forster, a cousin, has shared an important early photograph of the Hales.

A special note of appreciation goes to Marlene Charron of Marlene's Typing and Secretarial Service. Her skill and patience carried us through the changes, additions, and corrections we made in the last five drafts.

If readers would like to add to our written and photographic materials, we will be pleased.

(email to Don at  woodworthdw@yahoo.com)

[The following address is not current. Please inquire by email above. Ed., 2 May 2012]

Don Woodworth
Wells, ME
2 June 2000



PHOTOGRAPHS

1. Leoine Woodworth (by Olan Mills).
2. Baby picture (after 19 November 1909).
3. With family, early 1910. Left to right, Edward, Leon, Eva, Cora, and Leoine.
4. Dressed for snow, 1915.
5. The "old laker" on Winnisquam Lake, 1916. Left to right, Leon. Cora, Eva, Oley Kinley, Edward holding Gladys, Leoine, and Clarence Cote.
6. After graduation, June, 1926.
7. With Anne and Don, 1935.
8. Donald M. Woodworth, about 1945.
9. Leoine in profile, about 1935.
10. At Dartmouth graduation, June, 1954.
11. On a neighbor's porch, 1958. Left to right, Vera Stinson, Lois Foote, Leoine, and Anne.
12. In Washington with Steve and Ruth, 1956.
13. At Harmony Lodge, August, 1974. Rear, left to right, Anne, Don, Leoine, and Steve.  Center left, Joan. Center foreground, Ruth.

Leoine Daisy Hale

                                                                                                             

LEOINE DAISY HALE

Laconia, New Hampshire

1909-1974

Leoine Daisy Hale lived most of her life in Laconia and Lakeport, New Hampshire. Her four children, her grandchildren, and her stepdaughter were touched by her love, courage, and optimism.

Leoine was born at Laconia, 21 November 1909, the daughter of Leon Paxton Hale and Cora Levinia (Hyde) Hale. She was descended from Thomas and Thomasina (Dowsett) Hale who came from England to Newbury, Massachusetts in 1635. Leoine was in the 10th generation of descent from these early immigrant ancestors. We trace back the Hale line beginning with her father Leon Paxton 9, Edward Dolan 8, Thomas J. 7, Amos 6, Daniel 5-4, Thomas 3-2-1.

Leoine's name is a variation of her father's name, in three syllables, pronounced "Lee-o-in."


EARLY YEARS

Leoine was born into a family with a daughter, Eva, about 11, and a son, Edward, who was almost 10. Leoine was at once given Edward's protection. Edwyna, Edward's daughter, writes,

"Edward was ten years older than Leoine. I remember hearing that when he was a
youngster, he evidently heard Grammie Hale (Cora) and Grampa (Leon) talking about the new baby (Leoine) and the cost and time involved in caring for her. Edward thought, apparently, that they were not going to keep her, and he assured Cora and Leon that he would take care of the new baby sister. From everything I heard he did just that - he would rock her, push her in her carriage, stay in from playing outdoors to play with her. He loved her dearly!"

Leon lived with his father at 301 Court Street before his marriage (City Directory, 1895). After marriage, he is shown at several addresses in Laconia's south end: at 46 Middle Street (1900), 19 Jolliette (1905), 80 Bowman Street (1916), and 56 Academy (1920). It was this last place that Leoine recalled as her childhood home. It still stands, a duplex at the comer of Bowman. She visited her grandfather upstairs at 80 Bowman where he lived in his last years.

Leoine's father and grandfather worked for the Laconia Car Company (a maker of railroad cars) from before 1900 until after 1916. Some of the buildings still stand on Water Street, a four minute walk from home. Grandfather Edward was a machinist; Leon was in the brass foundry and later the machine shop (City Directory).

Following the closing of the Car Company, about 1930, Leon (and perhaps his father) worked at Scott & Williams, a knitting machine manufacturer at Union Avenue and Church. Irene Wilson recalled (in 1978) that Leon read blueprints, an important skill in an industrial plant where new machines were being developed and produced. Later, young Edward would work there, the third generation of machinists in the family.

Cora worked in the dry goods department of Oscar Lougee's on Main Street, about a quarter mile from the house. This was probably the source of the material Cora used to edge and back the two piecework comforters that were handed down in the family. Roy, Leoine's brother-in-law, and Ethel, her cousin, recalled (in 1987) that Cora did alterations there and waited on customers. Family tradition says she worked there 32 years, from perhaps 1902 to 1934. If so, the children had two working parents.

In 1913, the three children were joined by Gladys, born 13 January 1913, the daughter of Cora's sister, Lottie (Hyde) Cote. The family account is that Lottie, sick with flu or pneumonia, was abandoned by her husband, Fred Cote (or Cota) in a lumber camp near Hopkinton, NH, where they were spending the winter. Lottie died and her sisters each took one of the children:
Clarence (later called Warren), Evelyn, and Gladys. Leoine was 3 when Gladys arrived. (The adoption records for Gladys at Belknap Probate are in Docket #9344, dated 16 December 1913). Leon and Cora now had children aged 14, 13, 3, and 1. By the account of Cora’s granddaughter Cora (personal communication, 1983), Gladys was a "problem child" who "gave Leon and Cora fits."

By the adoption, Cora and Leon provided a model for following generations. Their children and grandchildren often opened their homes to youngsters who needed shelter.

Leon, the grandson of Civil War drummer Thomas Hale, was the first of three generations of

drummers in Laconia, playing snare drum for Pease's Laconia City Band. He was
photographed for The Laconian in 1899 with this band. The marches of John Phillip Sousa and the ragtime compositions of Scott Joplin were the rage in popular and band music from 1895 to 1918. (Of course, we can find these composers on tapes and CDs today, and so share the music Leon and his family enjoyed.)

Leoine's family, then, loved a parade, even one that would only circle the neighborhood! A series of photos from the July Fourth parade of 1916 shows the children in costume with decorated wagons, probably at the comer of Academy and Bowman Streets. Esther, Edward's future wife, sits astride the horse that will lead the parade. Edward holds the bridle while about twenty neighborhood kids line up. Gladys, now 3 1/2, is seated in a little buggy with flags, and Leoine, now 6 1/2, is standing ready to push the buggy. Everywhere there is the excitement of a kid's parade.

In these decades, city-wide parades were great productions. Young Edward followed his father as a drummer, playing in local bands, including the Laconia City band, starting probably before 1920 and continuing into the 1950's. In Leoine's youth, the parade passed each year down Academy Street in front of her home and, in later years, a block from her brother's home at 72 Lincoln. Edwyna writes,

"Memorial Day -- Aunt Leoine, Aunt Eva along with their spouses would gather at 72 Lincoln St. for the parade. All would walk down Lincoln St. to Academy St. and watch Edward playing the drums as the parade passed by. Back to the house and lots of fun and laughter the rest of the day."

Leoine's grandfather, Edward Dolan Hale, owned an in-board motorboat, kept in a boathouse on Lake Winnisquam, probably near 301 Court Street. Leon was allowed to run the boat. Cora, Leon's granddaughter, recalled (in 1983) the rides with Leon in this boat, "an old laker" (a long, narrow low boat with the bow decked over). By one report, Edward D. had a cottage at the head of lake Winnisquam, and the boat with its in-board motor made it easy to get to camp from the family homes in Laconia's South end.

In a picture taken in 1916, we see the family on an outing. Leon and Cora, their four children, Cora's brother-in-law Oley Kinley and his foster son, Clarence (Warren) Cote, pose in the boat for a portrait. All look at the camera except Eva, who leans against her mother but looks out over the water, ignoring the photographer, probably her Aunt Flossie (Hyde) Kinley.

Leoine was five when war broke out, and eight when the U.S. entered the war in 1917. She was in high school in 1922 as a freshman. As recorded by the yearbook, The Lakonian for 1926, she sang with the Glee Club in her senior year, and took the part of Miss Hays in “The Charm School.'' A cast photo shows her at left of the center door in a dark dress with her hair worn forward over her right eye. As a senior, she played Donna Anita in “The Belle of Barcelona." In the class photo in front of the recently-built high school on Union Avenue, she is 12th from the left in the back row. The class biography shows her nickname was "Sunny," that she was "Best-natured Girl," and says "We call her "Sunny" because wherever she goes she brightens the dark spots by her sunny disposition." At graduation, in 1926, she was photographed in a white dress and holding her diploma.

She worked at the Concord Telephone Company as an assistant cashier from 1926 to 1931, in the commercial department with her married sister (Eva Buzzeil), perhaps sharing Eva's home.



FIRST FAMILY, 1931-1947

On June 10,1931, her dear friend Bertha Heath gave a shower "in honor of her approaching marriage to Donald Woodworth of Lakeport" (Patriot, June 12,1931). Leoine's fiancé had left Dartmouth about 1925, worked in insurance three years in Boston, and returned to join his father at the Lakeport National Bank. How Leoine and Don met we do not know. They were married 15 August 1931 from her home, attended by Bertha Heath and Harold Abbott, both of whom remained life-long friends.

They moved into the bungalow in Lakeport at 12 Walnut Street, up the hill above Donald's

parents’ house at 921 Union Avenue. Here the big side porch (later enclosed) looked over the town to the south, a view that included two church spires and the rail line. To the north, the kitchen and bedroom windows looked across Paugus Bay to the White Mountains. Mt. Washington was often visible in the distance once the first snow had fallen on the peak. A huge pine stood in the back yard, and Leoine always refused to let Donald cut down the pine, which he often suggested to tease her. Her love of landscape and trees shaped her children's affection for nature and art.

Their first child, Don, was born in 1932, their second, Anne, in 1934. When Leoine was 24, in 1936, they moved down the hill to 921 Union Avenue, the house on the comer of Walnut Street and Union Avenue, recently vacated by her widowed mother-in-law, Edith.

Since her husband had been promoted to Cashier (the manager of daily operations) at Lakeport National Bank upon the death of his father in 1935, the family was protected from the rigors of the Depression.

Leoine made lunch for Don, and he walked the half mile from the bank. They often discussed bank business and town affairs, always cautioning the children not to repeat what they heard.

They had visitors from Boston, sometimes people from Shawmut National Bank, sometimes Dot and Cal from the Heileman branch of Don's family. The place to go was Contigiani's in Winnisquam for spaghetti, then back for drinks and music and loud talk, about which the children complained. Among the records played was "She Had To Go And Lose It At The Astor," good for a lot of laughs from the adults.

The regional bank conferences were held in the White Mountain resort hotels. Leoine looked forward to these conventions. Don was proud of her good looks and was delighted to tell their friends Ruth and Olive Abbott that people had said Leoine had "the best legs in New Hampshire." He bought her Haig and Haig Scotch at the bar and put the H & H Pinch bottle under the Christmas tree for her.

The baby of the family, Steven Hale, was born 1 May 1946 when Leoine was 36, Don 41.

These were good years in her life, 1932-1946. Her marriage and children, the pleasures of village life, a wide circle of friends, the closeness of the Hale family - all contributed to her well-being.

Still, there were tragedies on the horizon. Her mother died in 1945, her husband in February, 1947. Donald had from his youth a problem valve in his heart, and later a hardening of the arteries. A month before his 42nd birthday, he had a first heart attack, and in the hospital, a second. It was February and no burial was possible. The family stood outside the crypt at Bayside Cemetery as the ashes were taken inside to be kept for the return of Spring and the thawing of the ground. A friend said to Leoine, "I never see you cry." She replied, "I have my moments."

Leoine was left at home with children turning 15,13, and 1. The house was paid for, but there was little insurance. Soon she was selling a line of home products through parties at the homes of neighbors and friends.



SECOND FAMILY 1948-1968

Her brief marriage to Philip Ansell, a professional landscape architect, craftsman, and friend of the family, ended soon after Ruth was born (4 July 1948). Leoine had the baby's name and her own changed to Woodworth. Joan, Phil's daughter from a previous marriage, lived with her for a year or two, and they were mother and daughter from that time.

Her first child, Don, left for college in 1950; Anne married 19 July 1952; Joan married a week later. At home were Steve and Ruth.

Ruth writes about Leoine’s second family in the years from 1948-1968:

Probably my earliest memory of Leoine Daisy Hale, my mother, is of her rocking me on her lap and singing songs to me. I never felt safer than when she comforted me in her rocking chair. Some of the songs I remember her singing were "I Don't Want to Play in Your Yard," "I'll Take My Toys and I'll Go Right Home," "Hush-a-by, Don't You Cry," and "Mammy's Little Coal Black Rose," a song published in 1916 when she was a little girl.

One of my favorite things to do was "go down street" to Lakeport Square with Mom holding my hand. She would lift me up to walk along the tops of the stone walls along Union Avenue. Once we got to the Square, we would visit the bank, the Rexall Drug Store, Rudy's Market, and the Lakeport five-and-dime store. When I was still quite young, a new family moved into town. Henry and Ollie Rothfuchs became the new owners of the five-and-dime and Mom immediately became friends with them. She would occasionally be invited into the back room of the store to have a little drink with Henry and Ollie.

Clothes, shoes, and hats were important in Mom's life. She was careful to have her accessories match each outfit. I remember her in seamed stockings with high-heeled shoes. Red was her favorite color. Her hair was always neatly combed, with two braids pinned across the top of her head. Later in life she switched to a French twist, but never wore her hair down that I remember. She liked Topaze and Persian Wood, two fragrances by Avon. Her blue eyes always sparkled with love and merriment. She powdered her nose from a pressed-powder compact. Powdered rouge and lipstick completed her look.

The fifties and sixties seemed to be a time when people had time to stop and chat and have a cup of coffee with neighbors, and Mom had many friends in her Lakeport neighborhood. Eunice and Norris Heath lived in the next house south on Union Avenue. I remember looking at Mr. Heath's garden while Mom visited with Mrs. Heath in the kitchen. Up the hill on Walnut Street lived Vera and Lawrence Stinson and their five boys. Lois and Haven Foote and their two sons were in the next house above the Stinson's. Vera, Lois, and Mom would plan dance parties for their children's friends, who would come best-dressed in their sport coats or party dresses to dance to records and eat refreshments in the Foote's driveway.

One summer, the New England coast was threatened by a hurricane. We packed our bags and stayed overnight with the Footes. I suppose they invited us because they didn't want us to be "alone" without a man in the house during the storm. We went home the next morning after an uneventful night.

Eva Abbott, mother of Harold (Donald's best friend) and Harold's sisters Ruth and Olive, lived alone on the top floor of a lovely old white clapboard house surrounded by lilac bushes, across from the Footes. She rented out the first floor of the house after her family was grown. We would ring the bell and climb the steep front stairs to pay a visit. Mrs. Abbott was quite elderly, and would give a running commentary of whatever she was doing at the time, such as, "Now I am going to get the cups. Now I am going to pour the tea." Mom was very patient with her.

Ella Lang was a darling little old lady who lived alone in her house on Union Avenue. On our trips back and forth to the Square we often stopped by to see "Auntie Lang." She smelled of talcum and walked with a cane. She always seemed glad for our visits. One July she came to my birthday party on our lawn wearing a prim hat and carrying a bunch of pink roses, picked from a trellis beside her door.

Bina Morgan lived in Lakeport below the Square, and frequently sewed for Mom and babysat Steve and me. She was another recipient of Mom's visits when we walked to Lakeport Square to shop.

Maddie Steady was Mom's best friend. She lived near us when I was a baby, but moved to Bath, NH soon after. She and Mom stayed in touch with letters and visits throughout their lives.

Grandmother Edith Woodworth, mother of Donald, lived in a nursing home on Elm Street in Lakeport. On warm summer days we would walk across the footbridge to visit her and then stop at the Lakeport Library before walking home. It was a small brick building with a children's room, where I reveled in the science books and biographies. I am thankful still for the love of reading instilled in me by my mother. Her taste in books ran toward Ellery Queen and Alfred Hitchcock mysteries.

Mrs. Pray, the old biddy of a librarian, wore her white hair parted in the middle and pulled back severely in a bun at the nape of her neck. Her powdered face was highlighted by two shocking-pink circles of unblended rouge. Although Mrs. Pray was not the most civil person, Mom taught us to respect her.

Dan Clair was the town policeman who stood in the middle of the square directing traffic. Mom taught us that calling police officers "cops" was disrespectful. She let us know that we could count on Mr. Clair for help if we ever needed it.

Sometimes Mom would give me a stick of Beeman's gum when we walked home from the store. She told me that we should never throw gum wrappers or other trash on the ground. Years later, when I was old enough to go to the store myself, I remember being careful not to throw trash on the ground, not because it was bad for the environment but because it would upset my mother.

 Mom taught me an appreciation of nature. She loved flowers, trees, sunsets, mountains, lakes, the moon, and stars. She especially liked lilacs and pansies. For Memorial Day, she would order carnations from the florist and put them in large baskets with lilacs from our yard. White lilacs and red carnations went to Union Cemetery, while purple lilacs with pink carnations went to Bayside.

The pink granite Gale Memorial Library in Laconia was another place we frequented. I remember walking hand-in-hand with Mom through its beautiful gardens after picking out books, inspecting its flowers, birdhouses, and a sundial.

The kitchen at 921 had a gas stove where Mom turned out New England fare such as corn chowder, beef stew, and brown sugar cookies. Although her cookbook cannot be found, here are two recipes which closely duplicate some of her favorites.

Brown Sugar Cookies

Cream together 2 cups brown sugar and 1 cup butter.

Add:

2 beaten eggs

1 tsp. vanilla

1 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. cream of tartar

3 cups pastry flour

Drop by spoonfuls and bake in 350° oven,

-from Massachusetts Cooking Rules Old and New-1948

Easter Corn Chowder

10 slices bacon (Mom used salt pork)

1 medium onion, diced

4 medium potatoes, pared and diced

water

3 cups milk

1 1/2 cups white sauce mix (see below)

3 cans creamed com

1 1/2 tsp. salt

pepper to taste

White Sauce Mix

Combine 1 cup dry milk, 1/2 cup flour, 1 tsp. salt, and 1/2 cup butter or margarine.

Mix well, cutting in butter with a pastry blender until mixture 

resembles fine crumbs.

In a large frying pan, cook bacon until crisp. Crumble and set aside. Reserve 3 tbsp.  bacon drippings in pan. Add onion and cook until light brown. Add potatoes and enough water to cover. Cook over medium heat 10-15 minutes until potatoes are tender. Add creamed com and salt and pepper to mixture.
Combine milk and white sauce mix in a large saucepan. Cook over low heat until thick and smooth, stirring constantly. Add to potato mixture and heat through about 10 minutes. Top each serving with crumbled bacon and dot of butter.


Later in life after Mom married Dave, she swapped recipes with Pauli Korn, wife of a barbershopper in Berlin, where Dave would go once a week to direct a men's chorus. My favorite was a sour cream coffee cake. After welcoming me home for the weekend from UNH with a pot of beef stew, Mom would send me back to Durham with a tin full of coffee cake.

Nana Lee’s Sour Cream Coffee Cake

Sift together:

2 c. flour

1 1/2 tsp. baking powder

1/2 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. salt

Cream together:

3/4 c. sugar

1/2 c. butter or margarine

Add 2 beaten eggs and 1 tsp. vanilla to sugar and butter mixture. Add the sifted-together ingredients alternately with 1/2 pint (1 cup) of sour cream. Beat until smooth.

Filing:

1/2 c. sugar

2 tsp. cinnamon

1/2 c. chopped walnuts

Mix together.

Pour half of batter into greased, floured small angel cake or Bundt pan. Sprinkle half of filling over batter. Add rest of batter, top with remaining filling. Swirl through batter with spoon or knife. Bake 1 hour at 350°. Allow to cool 1/2 hour before trying to remove from pan. Invert onto serving plate. If cake won't come out of pan, reheat in oven for 2 minutes and try again. You can greatly reduce the fat by substituting plain yogurt for the sour cream in this recipe. It really doesn't affect the flavor.


Pauli also taught Mom crafts, such as using pressed flowers and colorful autumn leaves to make notepaper. At Christmas, Mom would attach wrapped hard candies to a shaped wire coat hanger with fine wire to make a wreath and finish it off with a decorative bow and a pair of children's scissors on a ribbon. Visitors could snip off a candy treat on their way through the door. Although her knuckles were swollen with osteoarthritis, she took much pleasure from her creations.

Mom tried to give us everything we wanted. One Christmas, I saw a beautiful doll at the First National grocery store. She was about two feet tail and was dressed in a pink lace gown, with pearl jewelry. I made it clear that I really wanted her for a Christmas gift. The day before Christmas, I asked Mom if I was going to get that doll. She explained sadly that she hadn’t been able to afford such an extravagant gift. I went to bed disappointed, but was delighted to find my doll under the tree the next morning.

Christmas was always special. Weeks before Christmas, we would bring out the decorations - - strings of lights with big bulbs of all colors, shiny plastic Santas, and glass birds with tails of soft white bristles. Mom would let me help set up the nativity scene on top of the piano. First we would cover the piano top with a sheet of white cotton batting. On the wall above the piano, she would tack a piece of dark-blue crepe paper adorned with silver stars. At one end of the piano we would place the cardboard stable, with figures of Mary, Joseph, and the Baby Jesus. He lay in a little cardboard manger, wrapped in a piece of white cloth. Various donkeys and cattle stood or lay near the stable. Next came the three wise men and their camels. At the far end, a field of sheep stood, along with two shepherds and their dog. An angel hung above them on the wall, announcing the birth of Jesus. I used to love to rearrange the figures, and Mom didn't object.

On Christmas Eve, we would hang our stockings on the doorknobs of our rooms. Mom would fix a plate of cookies and a glass of milk to leave on the piano for Santa Claus. There were a few years when Anne, John, and their children would come stay overnight so that we could all be together Christmas morning. The gifts under the tree would almost fill the living room, or at least it seems that way looking back.

At Easter, Mom would blow out eggshells and decorate a tree branch with the dyed eggs hung from ribbons. Two shells would be painted with faces and set in paper collars. She glued on cotton hair and there were a little old couple to set under the egg tree. Steve and I always received baskets filled with chocolate bunnies, marshmallow chicks, and jelly beans.

I don't know how she did it, but there was always money for dance and piano lessons, Girl Scouts. Cub Scouts, and the other activities important to children.

When Steven and I were little, Mom worked evenings selling Stanley Home Products. These were sold through parties in people's homes, similar to Tupperware. After we were in school, she went to work as a clerk at the Lakeport Water Company. It was within walking distance, and I often stopped in at the office after school to see her. She seemed to enjoy her job, and made new friends there.

It didn't take too much to amuse her - - she could see the funny side of just about anything. At the water works office was a tiny bathroom - - just a toilet in a small cubicle at the top of a step or two. She and the other ladies at the office got a chuckle out of calling it the throne room.

One night when I was in junior high, Mom laundered the garter belt that I needed for school the next day. Nylons were only for special occasions then. In the morning the belt was still damp. Mom lit the oven, hanging the garter belt on the open oven door to dry. When she brought it in to me, the heat had melted the elastic garter straps, which were now so long that I could have worn them with anklets. She saved the day with scissors and safety pins. I was furious, but I imagine she had a good laugh after I left for school.

Her sayings stick in my mind, things like "I've been right out straight all day," which meant that she'd been really busy. And "I'll take you over my checkered apron,” or 'You'll go to bed before it's dark under the table," which meant we were in big trouble. "Sugar, Henry, Ida, Thomas," was a coded cuss word obvious from its acronym.

In 1958 Mom, Steve, and I went to California for the summer to visit Joan. Joe was aboard ship, so we kept Joan, Lynn, and Jay company. It was an exciting summer. We went to Knott's Berry Farm, the San Diego Zoo, Disneyland, Balboa Park, and Hollywood. Mom and Joan went to Tijuana, too. The one thing I remember her buying there was a sequined skirt for Anne. I think she and Joan were afraid to take us kids with them across the border.

I won a trip to Philadelphia in an essay contest in 1963. Mom and I traveled to PhiIIy by Trailways bus. At the back of the bus was a restroom. Mom left for awhile and I began to wonder what was taking her so long. When she finally came back, she was chuckling to herself. She explained that the restroom door had become stuck, and she was unable to get out. She found a cord to pull to alert the driver of problems. She said that she had pulled it repeatedly, but every time she pulled the cord, the driver stepped on the accelerator. She finally got the door open by herself and returned to her seat. She continued to giggle about the incident until we got to the hotel.

When we unpacked our luggage at the hotel, our clothing was terribly wrinkled from the heat of the luggage compartment. Mom called room service, and soon a bellman came to the room to pick up our clothing to be ironed. Mom asked him to hang the items in the closet if we weren't in the room when he returned. In Philly talk he questioned, "Oh youse won't be here?" This caught her off guard, and she replied, "No, we won't not." As he closed the door behind him, we both collapsed in laughter. For years afterward, I could make her laugh by saying, "No, we won't not."

In March 1964 Mom married Dave Goodale. We had moved to West Ossipee, NH over Christmas vacation, where Mom and Dave had purchased a large home they called Harmony Lodge. It had eight double guest rooms and a large room behind the family quarters which they turned into a bunkroom for twelve. The number of guests varied widely from weekend to weekend and season to season, but during the winter, there were many weekends when all the beds were full. Mom did all the laundry and changed all the beds for most of the time when there were guests. She did have a woman who came in to help occasionally in later years. The lodge was a perfect place for Mom and Dave to entertain their barbershopping friends when they held the Winter Carnival of Harmony once a year in Wolfeboro, and for the Alton Bay Jamboree in the summer. We often had ski teams from Boston-area colleges who would come up for a few weekends every winter. Then our two living rooms would be filled with young men visiting, playing guitar, singing, or watching TV.

Sometimes whole families would reserve rooms. Mom wrote (February 24,1972) about one such adventure.

"Our two families seem to be happy here and are getting along well together - - and of course skiing is FANTASTIC this week! Yesterday was very cold, but today it's about 35° and sunny. Must be great over there. 

We had 14 kids over the weekend - - as well as the 6 adults - - plus 6 on the top floor. Everybody had a great time talking and playing cards. The 7-year-old boy in this group now is a pain in the you know what - - but the rest of them are ok and they're gone from 9 AM to 4:30 PM - - so I can't kick. My work is all done by 10:30, as they make their beds and do their own dishes - - they'd better!"

Sometimes in the fall, deer hunters would come stay at the lodge. The night before they went out into the woods, Mom would wish them luck. Then she'd come into the kitchen and say, under her breath, "Hope ya don't get anything."

When I went away to college at UNH in 1966, Mom wrote to me several times a week. It was the first time in thirty years that she didn't have any children at home. Until her death in
1974, she continued to write several times every week. I can't imagine how she made the time to write so often. Most of the letters included details of what she did every day, news of the family, and questions about what I was doing. She would describe walks she had taken or people she had run into at the post office, or how many beds she had made that day. She also gave accounts of visits with Anne's family, news from letters she had received from Don and Joan, and Steve's experiences in the Navy.

In a letter dated 10/4/66 her sense of humor is evident.

Anne and Mom used to sing together in Sweet Adelines and go to barbershop quartet shows. After Mom married Dave, they spent many weekends together "barbershopping" - - traveling around to shows in the New England area to hear quartets and choruses perform. They made many friends who shared their enthusiasm for the barbershop style. They attended several International Conventions, including Atlantic City, NJ in 1970; New Orleans, LA in 1971; Atlanta, GA in 1972; and Portland, OR in 1973. Mom especially enjoyed the Suntones, 1961 International Champs, and the Gentlemen's Agreement, another first place quartet. They sang a love song called, “The Sweetest Story Ever Told,'” that was one of her favorites. She and Dave hung pictures of so many well-known quartets in one of the living rooms at Harmony Lodge that you could hardly see the wallpaper. 

Mom's children and grandchildren were her greatest joy. How many times did she tell the story of Anne reading uncoached at age three, "Boys in Uniform" - - the caption under a photo of Boy Scouts in Life magazine. Or Don, calling a star "Ish-ish da dog tar" (Sirius, the Dog Star). Steve was remembered for his escapades with the large-hoofed horses. As I recall, Mom noticed him missing and found him inside a fence, where he was admiring several Clydesdales. I suppose there were a few times she related the tale of my rolling over the stone wall onto the sidewalk of Union Avenue in a baby stroller during play with a neighborhood friend. Mom also loved Joan, her second husband's daughter, as one of her own. In a letter to me she explained her sense of things.

[missing line above should read "blessed me by giving me you"]

The silver bracelet she wore was a source of pride. Each bracelet charm bore the name and birth date of one of her grandchildren. She often showed it off to her friends in the neighborhood and at barbershop shows.


Steve writes:

Mom selling Stanley Home Products. She'd have Stanley parties at someone's house, take orders, and a big truck would deliver to 921. She'd sort and bag the orders, call the people, and they'd come and pick up goods.

Cub Scouts was a treat. She helped me do a project with stamps. Old Man of the Mountain stamps on yellow background in a black frame. I still have it somewhere.

Sitting on the front porch lawn during summer nights. Mrs. Morgan, Mrs. Stinson, and Mrs. Heath all visiting.

Going for rides with Mrs. Dunn for ice cream or to Benson's Animal park.

At Christmas we'd walk to Harold Taft's to buy a tree. He'd deliver. Mom would decorate, putting tinsel on it one, (1), (ONE) strand at a time, an equal number on each branch. The tree would be perfect, but what a lot of work.

One time I pestered Ruth, and Mom chased me and hit me over the head with a wire cake rack. I bounced across the floor and she thought she'd done serious damage.  She never hit me with a cake rack again.

But one time I pestered Ruth about 6 PM. Mom was on the phone and she picked up a shoe and threw it at me. I saw it coming and ducked. It flew over my head and broke a window. She put down the phone and grabbed me by the ear and told me to "get out and don't come back until you can behave." I stayed out all night. I came home the next morning about 10 AM thinking she'd be at work, but she was home waiting, wondering where I'd been. I never told her and she never threw me out again.

I remember she always waited for Don to come home from Indiana or Connecticut with great anticipation.

She met Dave Goodale, a singing coach and judge, at a barbershop show in Connecticut. They moved to West Ossipee in November of 1963. The house, situated on the main road, had been a rooming house for elderly folks. They converted it into a rooming house for tourists, transients, and skiers. They put a big sign out front - - Harmony Lodge.

In West Ossipee, 1964 and after, we'd have a Fourth of July family reunion "at the farm" as Uncle Ed liked to call it and Friday nights were always celebrated with food and drink usually until late at night 

(Steve was on active duty with the U.S. Navy from March, 1966 to February, 1970. He joined the Laconia Fire Department in 1970 and was promoted to Lieutenant in 1977).


Joan writes:

My fondest memory of Lee is her heart-warming hugs. They made me feel loved.

Her letters to Joe and me meant so much to us. We were so far away most of Joe's career and she always sent news of the family. How I wish I had saved them as Ruth so wisely did. There must be "gold" in them. 

We had such fun when she, Steve, and Ruth came to visit me in Coronado. We even drove over the border into Tijuana, Mexico!

What grand times we had at the family gatherings at Harmony Lodge! Ruth has an old movie, filmed there, which Joe put on video tape for her. I'm sure she’ll show it to you sometime.

Lee cooked such delicious meat loaf, beef stew, and oyster stew, among other things.

I remember how chic she always looked and she wore a hat like no one else could, in the days when they were in style.

P.S. Lest I forget - being born an only child, I was delighted to have you, Annie, Steve, and Ruth as brothers and sisters. Still am!!


Coral writes:

I like to think I've inherited one of Nana's traits: putting sentimental value on things that other people might think are without value. For example: Tamber & Ted's toys. We found them in a closet at Harmony Lodge and asked if we could play with them. Nana wouldn't let us and explained that the toys had belonged to Tamber & Ted, and were very special to her. As a kid, I didn't understand what difference that made. As an adult, I do understand and I'm glad she didn't let us play with those toys.

Another example: When I was in grade school, probably 8 or 9, I made some "jewelry" for Nana. After she died, someone found them and the box I decorated to hold them. Believe me when I say they were hideous! Light green felt was glued onto a penny for the pin, with white "pearls" and black sequins. There were matching clip-on earrings. The jewelry box also had pearls & sequins on it. She might not have ever worn them, but she saved them! I had completely forgotten about it, but when I saw them again, I remembered how proud I was making them. Even though I laughed my head off at the sight of them, I was really touched that she saved them.

Nana's scrambled eggs (especially the Christmas morning ones) were the BEST. All these years and eggs later, I still believe that.

 Pansies have always been my favorite flower & I always associate them with Nana. She had them in the yard at 921 Union Ave. Pansies are the first flower I can remember being aware of as a small child, & each Spring when I plant them, I always start to think of her.


Blythe writes:

I remember going to Nana's house on Christmas Eve. The anticipation of getting the car packed up, leaving for her house, and knowing Santa Claus was on his way, (probably in China at that very moment), was very exciting. By the time we got to West Ossipee it was always dark out. It was finally Christmas Eve! Nana's house on Christmas always seemed like the house in the poem, The Night Before Christmas. Nana would meet us at the door with hugs and kisses and we would burst into the living room to see the tree and decorations. Her tree was always huge, and she always had bayberry candles burning that made the house smell cozy.

I know we probably had dinner there, but I was too excited to notice. I remember Nana always having cake made, ready to slice a piece for Santa. She kept the cake on the counter in the pantry area between the kitchen and living room areas. I have a memory of helping her (watching her) slice the perfect piece and put it on a special plate for Santa. When it was time for bed, we went upstairs where Coral and I shared the first room to the right of the staircase. There was a window that looked out on a ledge that was covered in Christmas snow. The feeling at Nana's was magical. As I lay there willing myself to go to sleep, I was sure Santa was on his way. I knew that I had to fall asleep quickly or he wouldn't come!

I remember I woke up on one Christmas Eve during the night and was sure I heard jingle bells! Another Christmas, I woke up after what seemed like three days of sleeping, only to hear the roaring laughter and raucous barbershop singing of all the adults. I called for my mom to come upstairs. How could Santa come if they were still up? I was so mad! She told me to go back to sleep and Santa would come. Of course I didn't know that Santa was making his visit while they sang tags over and over again! 

When we woke up on Christmas morning too early for the rest of the world, the boys and Coral and I would creep down the stairs and peek into the living room. There were presents everywhere! It looked like we could never open them all. The adults would drag themselves downstairs only a few hours after they'd gone to bed, and we'd all open our stockings. After stockings, we'd have to wait what seemed like many hours before the adults finished breakfast and cleaned up. We could finally open the presents Santa had brought!

I love my memories of Nana's at Christmas because it truly was Christmas there with all its sweet smells, and magical feelings. As I look back on it as an adult, I think Santa did come to visit at Nana's house. I really don't think I just imagined those footsteps and jingle bells on the roof!


Tamber writes:

While my memories of Nana are few, they are filled with kindness, gentleness, and love. I have memories of sitting on her lap with her face close to mine, engaged in conversation. My mother has also described Nana as loving and giving. From my mother's description Nana was particularly attentive and generous with children.

I felt a strong connection in reading Nana's letters (at Ruth's house, Fall 1996). Her affectionate ways remind me of my own, or at least how I would like to be toward my children. I was amazed at her persistence in being connected with you (Ruth) and involved in your life. She had a "down-to-earth" sense of humor and she seemed to be connected to several friends and family members. Her intelligence and vibrancy shone through her words.


Bayard writes:

I would love to share with you my memories of Nana Lee. I remember Nana Lee from the perspective of a child, so keep that in mind when I say that I remember Nana Lee as being tall. I remember her getting Twinkies for me from on top of the refrigerator where I couldn't reach them. I recall visions of her cooking over the stove, which sticks in my mind because the stove had hot-plates or some arrangement I had not seen before. I remember her smiling face, but her voice alludes me. I remember her making beds in the room full of bunk-beds and my waking up in the morning to the fragrances of trees and morning dew from where the windows had been open all night. In my mind's eye, I can see her working here and there in the kitchen.

Geez Dad, I remember a bunch of things from the hotel. The enclosed screen porch. Putting up a bird house with David. The siren in the distance. Uncle Steve dressing me up in fireman's hat and coat (I have a picture of that I think). I remember you and I exploring all around a covered bridge. I recall my oldest memories of Ruth, living in the attic if memory serves.


Belinda writes:

I do remember going to Harmony Lodge on several occasions. It was always some place that I felt safe. Nana Lee in my recollection was a very nice person and I only remember her with kindness. Some of my favorite times were staying there and we each got to have our own rooms and of course, playing in the bunk room.


Norma writes:

Writing about the life of your Mom is an exciting project, I'm sure. Unfortunately, I only recall having visited her once or twice when she lived in the Union Avenue home opposite the marina.

I recall her warm smile and remember being impressed with her lovely long braids that she twisted up onto her head. The only other memory that I recall is hearing my Mom expressing that Aunt Leoine was her "favorite aunt."


Edwyna writes:

The great times we all had at Leoine's place in West Ossipee on the 4th of Jury. We'd sit around and chat, 'raise a few," play croquet, ride the tram up the mountain and once we stayed over and sang Barbershop until the wee hours of the morning. What fun!

I remember Aunt Leoine as always having a happy face, a great attitude and being so very fond of Barbershop. She was a great lady!

This isn't much information, but the few memories I have are so very special.


Marge Lachance writes:

We had many good times and laughs and tears.

Lee worked at the Laconia Water Works with me for a while, but I can't remember how long.

My first husband, Bill, died in 1958 and I think it was during that year that she was there. She and Anne were with Sweet Adelines then and they started me singing too.

Of course from there we took in many barbershop shows in New Hampshire and
Massachusetts.

I was always the driver and one year the three of us took off on a Friday afternoon for an International show in Philadelphia.  Lee had to stop often, so we decorated a "potty" seat with fur and took it with us.

On the back window we had a sign "Philadelphia or Bust" and a truck driver pulled by us and told us to follow him.

Arriving in Philadelphia about 9 PM, we went to our room to freshen up, then took off for the headquarters to see everyone.

The Easternaires, who had been to my house for an after-glow when they did a show in Laconia, invited us back to the quartet's hotel and we listened to more quartets until about 6:30 AM when we all had breakfast at a nearby cafeteria.

We bedded down about 8 AM, then Anne pulled the shade at 10 AM saying it was a beautiful day and we shouldn't waste it by sleeping.

We had been invited to have lunch with the Four Rascals, then on to showtime. Think bed was around 3 AM. As I was the driver I had to catch a little shut-eye.

When Lee met Dave at a show in Rhode Island, I discovered that my mother had been engaged to marry Dave's father, then met my father, and broke off the engagement. We might have been brother and sister.

We took in as many shows and afterglows on weekends in Massachusetts and Connecticut and after she married Dave, we helped paint and paper before they moved in.

Fond memories! Sad ones when she took sick!


Don writes:

One day in the summer when I was 6 or 7, say 1938, I had a sudden wish to make a toy soldier into a parachutist. I went in to ask Mom about it. She left off her ironing in the kitchen and found a handkerchief and string. Soon she had rigged the toy soldier to the four corners of the cloth. Then when I rolled him up and threw him high in the air, he floated slowly to the ground.

In 1943, when I was 11, I had to spend a week in a dark room while an eye injury healed.  Mom brought quantities of toast cut in narrow strips, with orange juice to dip the toast in (my invention). She set up a radio so I could listen to Jack Armstrong and the Lone Ranger in the afternoon and so comforted me and helped the time to pass.

My doctor, Dr. Hernandez, had been to the house and later we made office visits. He would ask me if I realized what an awful housekeeper my mother was. (He had seen how she piled everything onto the sink shelf in the kitchen). And he teased her endlessly about the hats she wore. He was a handsome, mustachioed man with a Cuban accent. Mom was much amused by his remarks.

The hats were a great touch. She probably learned this from her aunt, Flossie (Hyde) Kinley, who was wearing great hats in the end-of-war photos done in 1918 when Mom was nine. Mom was still finding great hats to wear in 1954 when she was photographed in Hanover at my graduation.


Anne writes:

When Don and I were little, we weren't allowed to help trim the Christmas tree. Sam Grant, who lived next door, owned a farm somewhere in Gilford. Every Christmas season when he brought us a big tree, he would bring a small tree, just our size, that was ours to decorate. Mom's Christmas trees were always perfectly shaped, carefully decorated, and the tinsel was put on one strand at a time! We had our own tree for many years, probably until we were older and she felt we could do it right!

A few weeks before Easter, she would start "blowing" eggs. Whenever she was baking and needed eggs, she would make a tiny hole on each end with a pin and blow the yolk and the white out. She would save the empty shells until she had enough to decorate. Then she would make cardboard collars, stand the eggs on end in the collars and paint faces on the eggs.

Each one was different every year. She would use buttons, bits of yam, scraps of fabric or whatever she could find to stick on for hair, jewelry, etc. Every Easter morning they would be on the kitchen table. We never saw them being worked on, as she wanted to surprise us.

She couldn't sew or knit, but she always had clever ideas. I remember that I had a pretty lavender dress that I was going to wear for a special occasion, and she decided that it needed something. She came up with a piece of black velvet ribbon and glued little lavender flowers on the front of it - - voila! I had a beautiful choker, a necklace that was popular at the time.

I remember that she was always singing or humming as she went about her housework.
She was jolly and could find humor in most situations.

When Steve was little and Ruth just a baby, she and her best friend, Maddie Steady, would decide on the spur of the moment to go to the movies at Lakeport Square. I would babysit, and off they would go, giggling like schoolgirls because they both smelted like baby spit-up!

In later years, she joined the Sweet Adelines and had a lot of fun going to barbershop shows
and conventions. This is how she met Dave Goodale, and as we all know, lived happily ever after!


Ruth concludes:

In January of 1974, Mom suffered a mild stroke. She was diagnosed with abdominal cancer shortly after. Her children were not told directly of her condition, although she was in and out of the hospital throughout her last summer.

Her children and grandchildren gathered around her in a last reunion at Harmony Lodge in August. A few days later, she was so ill that she had to be taken by ambulance to Laconia Hospital. She passed away there two weeks later, on September 1,1974. Men's and women's quartets sang at her funeral, and Don offered a moving eulogy. Her ashes were buried in the Hale plot near the pond at Union Cemetery in Laconia, NH.

Probably the most important things to remember are Mom's great love for her family and her infectious sense of humor. By her example she taught us respect for all people, appreciation of nature, honesty, love of family, and how to laugh during good times and bad. Her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren are her legacy. Through us, her love and laughter live on.