Joy Neal Kidney's Blog, page 68

The Poppies of Flanders Fields–Guest Post by Denzil Walton (Belgium)

The Poppies of Flanders Fields–Guest Post by Denzil Walton (from Belgium)

Why were the poppies of Flanders Fields so numerous? And how did they become the symbol of remembrance?

Were the fields of Flanders always covered in poppies?

Not to such an extent as during the First World War. Actually, and quite surprisingly, in the early years of the 20th century there were hardly any poppies in the fields of Flanders, Belgium. At least nothing like there were by the end of the First World War.

The reason for their comparative absence is that the soils of Flanders and the north-west of France were fairly poor. The corn poppy (Papaver rhoeas) thrives on richly manured, ploughed land. One British soldier remarked in 1914 that the fields in the area of the Somme (in northern France) were far poorer for poppies than his native Norfolk in England.

When did the poppies of Flanders Fields first appear in huge numbers?

It was in the second year of the war – in 1915 – that the first records appeared in letters sent home of no-man’s land being “ablaze” with scarlet poppies. From this time onwards, letters written by soldiers constantly referred to the fields of poppies, and featured heavily in soldier’s poems. Such as this one by Lieutenant-Colonel W. Campbell Galbraith.

RED POPPIES IN THE CORN

I’ve seen them in the morning light,
When white mists drifted by.
I’ve seen them in the dusk o’ night
Glow ‘gainst the starry sky.
The slender waving blossoms red,
Mid yellow fields forlorn.
A glory on the scene they shed,
Red Poppies in the Corn.

I’ve seen them, too, those blossoms red,
Show ‘gainst the Trench lines’ screen.
A crimson stream that waved and spread
Thro’ all the brown and green.
I’ve seen them dyed a deeper hue
Than ever nature gave,
Shell-torn from slopes on which they grew
To cover many a grave.

Bright blossoms fair by nature set
Along the dusty ways,
You cheered us, in the battle’s fret,
Thro’ long and weary days.
You gave us hope: if fate be kind,
We’ll see that longed-for morn,
When home again we march and find
Red Poppies in the Corn.

Lieutenant-Colonel W. Campbell Galbraith (1917)

Did poppies appear on other battlefields?

Yes, particularly on the Gallipoli peninsula in Ottoman Turkey. Allied troops landed here on 25th April 1915. The objective was to capture the city of Constantinople (now Istanbul) and knock Ottoman Turkey out of the war.

Trench warfare quickly took hold at Gallipoli, mirroring the fighting taking place on the Western Front. After eight months of heavy fighting, the Allies withdrew, in January 1916. It was a major Allied failure and a defining moment for the nation of Turkey.

Anyway, by the time the Allies left, whole swathes of the area were covered in poppies. A valley south of Anzac beach was named Poppy Valley.

Why did so many poppies appear during the First World War?

This is the key question, isn’t it? The war created prime conditions for poppies to flourish in Flanders and north-west France (and Gallipoli). Continual bombardment disturbed the soil and brought the seeds to the surface. They were fertilized by nitrogen in the explosives and lime from the shattered rubble of the buildings.

Most poignantly, the blood and the bones of the millions of men, horses, donkeys, dogs and other animals richly fertilized the soil.

The longer the war continued, the more men and animals died. The more men and animals died, the more the poppies thrived.

When did the poppy become the flower of remembrance?

It all started with Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae, a Canadian medical doctor. In May 1915 during the Second Battle of Ypres he was working in a dressing station alongside the Yprelee Canal.

On 2nd May his friend Lieutenant Alexis Helmer of the Canadian Field Artillery was blown to bits by an artillery bombardment. As many of Helmer’s body parts as possible were somehow gathered and buried at Essex Farm Cemetery. At the funeral, McCrae stood in for the chaplain and took the service. Later that day when he came off duty, McCrae sat on the back of an ambulance and, looking over the fresh graves and the wild poppies, penned a poem.

IN FLANDERS FIELDS

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

John McCrae (1917)

In Flanders Fields was published on 8th December 1915 in Punch and became an immediate sensation in the trenches and around the English-speaking world. The poppy became the symbol of the war dead. It was seen as representing the souls of those who died between 1914 and 1918, transformed into a million blood-red flowers.

What’s the origin of the wreath of artificial poppies?

John McCrae did not survive the war, dying of pneumonia on 28th January 1918 while commanding No. 3 Canadian General Hospital in Boulogne. His friends and comrades, unable to find wild poppies to lay on his grave, ordered a wreath of artificial poppies from Paris.

Was the poppy already an emblem of death?

Yes. Archaeologists exploring a cave in Spain in 1935 found baskets of poppy capsules laid beside human remains dating back to 4000 BC. On a 3,000-year-old statue from Minoan Crete, a Poppy Goddess statue wears an opium poppy headdress. According to classical Greek myths, poppies flowered along the banks of the River Lethe which flowed to Hades, and from which the dead had to drink to forget their former existence in the world of the living. Its petals are the color of blood, and the opium poppy is a source of morphine, a powerful painkiller which made the physical agonies of war more bearable, and which was a derivative of opium.

What’s the origin of the sale of poppies?

McCrae’s poem inspired an American academic, Moina Michael, to make and sell red silk poppies which were brought to England by a French woman, Anna Guérin. The British Legion, formed in 1921, ordered 9 million of these poppies and sold them on 11 November that year. The poppies sold out almost immediately and that first ever Poppy Appeal raised over £106,000 to help WW1 veterans with employment and housing. Poppy-wearing gathered momentum, and in 1933 poppies started to be made in a purpose-built factory in Richmond, which produces millions of poppies each year.

What are some good books on poppies? WHERE POPPIES BLOW by John Lewis-Stempel

This is a wonderful book that I can highly recommend. I learned a lot, and ended up with even more respect for these mostly young men who lived and died in such an appalling war. But Lewis-Stempel also shows the amazingly close connections – both positive and negative – between the soldiers who fought on the front line and nature.

It starts with the positive aspects, and the surprising fact that no man’s land was, effectively, a bird reserve with a barbed wire perimeter: ‘If it weren’t for the birds, what a hell it would be’ says one soldier. Experiences with birds, especially when they were singing in the lulls, lifted their spirits: “They offered a touch of Heaven in Hell.”

Lewis-Stempel also covers the benefits of close connections with dogs, horses and mules on and beyond the Front Line, as well as gardening in all its varied aspects, even in prisoner-of-war camps. The swathes of poppies of course made a huge impact, tinged by the fact that “the blood of soldiers is the fertiliser for the poppy.”

But he also brings us down to earth with the horrendous accounts of infestations of lice and rats in the trenches; the massacres of horses and mules; even the bacteria and viruses that brought death.

The Penguin Book of First World War Poetry

This is a great starting point for anyone interested in reading more poetry from the Great War. It includes all the best known pieces by the well-known poets such as Sassoon, Owen, Brooke, Rosenberg etc., but also has an excellent range of poets that are rarely included in anthologies of war poems.

The War Poems Of Wilfred Owen For me, and for millions of others, Wilfred Owen is the most powerful of war poets. He composed nearly all of his poems in slightly over a year, from August 1917 to September 1918. In November 1918 he was killed in action at the age of 25, one week before the Armistice. Where the poppies now grow  by Hilary Robinson

A delightfully written book that will introduce young children (e.g. aged 5 to 10) to trench warfare. It’s beautifully illustrated, and deals with a difficult subject with great tenderness and sympathy.

More about the First World War

Here are some other articles of mine about the First World War in Belgium:

What happened after the Armistice?  For thousands of Belgian people, the signing of the Armistice on 11 November 1918 marked the beginning of another grim struggle that was to last for decades. Visiting the Menin Gate for the Last Post . What’s the origin of the Last Post and why is it played every day at the Menin Gate in Ypres? How did the First World War start?  A timeline of events.Where can I walk around Flanders Fields?

I describe a couple of walks through Flanders Fields. They start from the excellent Memorial Museum of Passchendaele, go into the surrounding countryside, and take in some of the most poignant cemeteries in Flanders Fields.

Any questions about Flanders Fields, poppies, or the First World War in Flanders, drop me a line and I will do my best to research the answer.

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2Lt. Daniel S. Wilson, Lorraine American Cemetery Plot D, Row 5, Grave 7

The Reason for this Unusual Blog Post

Gaston Adier, Mayor of Carling, France, has visited the grave of Iowa’s Danny Wilson at St. Avold several times. He’s sent photos of him with the grave alone, with his wife and brother, and with groups of school children. He talked to them about this American pilot who gave his life to help wrench Europe from tyranny.

So that he’d have more information about Danny, even from childhood, I sent him these photos. He didn’t need any English in order to share them. My blog post, though, on Monday was about how they made sure that who is buried in that grave in France is indeed our Danny Wilson. He was frustrated because of the language barrier, and we tried to find a solution. Facebook offers translations, but that doesn’t work even if the blog post is shared there. 

Yesterday, Justus from Iowa PC Services added a translator plug-in, and in time that Mr. Adier was able to read it! Check it out, lower right-hand corner. Several languages to choose from.

Daniel S. Wilson

Danny Wilson was born in Stuart, Iowa, USA in 1923, the sixth child of Clabe and Leora Wilson.

Dexter, Iowa

After they moved to Dexter when he was small, Danny needed surgery in Des Moines for a mastoid behind his ear. He was only four years old.

Danny is the boy yawning, about the time of his surgery.

During the Great Depression, his two oldest brothers joined the Navy, leaving two sisters and three brothers at home.

Danny is the middle boy, about 11 years old.

Their father Clabe, then Dale, Danny, and Junior.

Their pet squirrel is on the fender.

They also had a pet dog named Spats.

Danny Wilson, unknown age

Minburn, Iowa

The family moved to Minburn, Iowa in 1939, as tenant farmers. Danny graduated from high school in 1941, named Valedictorian for having the best grades in his class.

Graduation photo, 1941

Last photo of the whole family, November 1941

Clabe and Leora Wilson seated

Standing: Daniel, Darlene, Donald, Junior, Delbert, Doris (my mother), Dale

Danny and Junior were still in high school. Darlene was Dale’s twin.

Donald and Delbert served in the Navy.

Daniel, Junior, and Dale became pilots, and all three were killed.

—–

Danny Wilson farmed with his dad and brothers until joining the Army Air Force in 1943.

Danny with younger brother, Junior Wilson

1942 near Minburn, Iowa

Lt. Daniel S. Wilson

Received his wings in March 1944

Williams Field, Chandler, Arizona

Overseas: Italy

Dan Wilson at the base of the 37th Fighter Squadron,

14th Fighter Group at Triolo, Italy, late 1944

Dan Wilson with his P-38 Lightning

P-38 Lightning

Dan Wilson was killed in action February 19, 1945, Schwanberg, Austria.

—–

He and his brothers are honored on the Dallas County Freedom Rock at Adel, Iowa.

CEM Donald Wilson (survived the sinking of the USS Yorktown (CV-5) in the Battle of Midway, also served on the USS Hancock (CV-19), E 1/c Delbert Wilson served on a tanker (Aruba, East Coast, North Africa), 2Lt. Dale Wilson (B-25 copilot, lost off New Guinea, 1943, never found), 2Lt. Dan Wilson (P-38 pilot, KIA Austria), F/O Junior Wilson (P-40 pilot killed in training when his plane exploded).

Now, if we could only get Leora’s Letters: The Story of Love and Loss for an Iowa Family During World War II translated into French.

Hubert Caloud, Site Superintendent with the American Battle Monuments Commission

As we near Memorial Day I think of America’s overseas military cemeteries. The American Battle Monuments Commission (ABMC) administers, operates and maintains 26 permanent American military cemeteries and 32 federal memorials. A native Iowan is the Superintendent of one of them.Hubert Caloud a native of Clutier, Iowa served in the Marine Corps for over thirty years retiring as a Sergeant Major. Caloud has been working for ABMC since his retirement from the USMC in 2004. He has been assigned as the Assistant Superintendent of the Ardennes American Cemetery in Belgium and the Manila American Cemetery in the Philippines. He has also been assigned as the Superintendent of Flanders Field American Cemetery in Belgium and the Aisne-Marne and Oise-Aisne American Cemeteries in France.His current assignment Oise-Aisne cemetery in the Department of Aisne is close to his heart as his Great-Uncle William Kucera from Elberon, Iowa fought next to the cemetery in the 168th Infantry, 42nd (Rainbow) Division in 1918. Kucera’s Company Commander was Captain Edward Fleur whom Fleur Drive in Des Moines is named after. His Uncle Arnold Vileta from Tama, Iowa built several temporary bridges close to the cemetery on the Marne River as a Combat Engineer in General Patton’s 3rd Army in 1944.Although he was in different wars than WWI and WWII, Hubert is the third generation of his family to represent America in this part of France a fact that he says isn’t lost on the locals he interacts with.“It means something to people when I say that my family fought to liberate this ground. More passions or a calling than jobs Caloud has served the American Government since he was a teenager almost 50 years ago.At the grave of his great uncle’s friend, Omar Shearer, who was killed in Sergy, just over the ridge from here. Shearer was the first Guthrie Center, Iowa soldier killed during WWI. The American Legion there is named after him. Caloud is standing at Shearer’s Grave in a film he was asked to make about the cemetery.

Danny Wilson: How Can You be Sure He’s Really Buried There?

Fifty-two years after their brother was Killed in Action, Danny Wilson’s sisters visited his grave for the first time.

Lt. Dan Wilson, Italy, 1945

Just twenty-one, Dan Wilson was a P-38 Lightning pilot based in Italy. His plane was lost in Austria on his nineteenth mission.

Darlene, who at age 76, had peripheral neuropathy (numbing in her legs), wanted to see the spot where her younger brother Danny was buried before she became unable to make the trip. Doris, her older sister by three years, had had a hip replaced, and prayed their plane across the ocean.

That devastating telegram had arrived at the Wilson’s small home near Perry, Iowa, on a Saturday in 1945: THE SECRETARY OF WAR DESIRES ME TO EXPRESS HIS DEEP REGRET THAT YOUR SON SECOND LIEUTENANT DANIEL S WILSON HAS BEEN REPORTED MISSING IN ACTION SINCE NINETEENTH FEBRUARY OVER AUSTRIA. . . .

Doris and Darlene, both widows of Iowa farmers and carrying their very first passports, first floated down the Seine River in Paris, gazed out over Omaha Beach at Normandy, and visited Versailles. But a grave in eastern France was the sole reason for their trip.

How can you be sure your brother is even buried there? someone had asked.

The dead American “Flying Lieutenant” found in the wreck in Austria was identified by his tags as Daniel S. Wilson. Wehrmacht soldiers kept the tags but turned the body over to village officials.

How could they be sure that the grave in France where the sisters stood in the rain and sang the words to “Taps” was really where their brother was buried?

On February 22, 1945, the Wehrmacht reported at the air base headquarters in Graz, Austria, that Daniel S. Wilson, a member of an enemy air force had been killed, recording the place, date, serial number, name, and stating that two ID tags had been found on the American flyer.

This document, captured and translated after the war, began the search for Doris and Darlene’s missing brother, although no one knew it for months after he was lost. A British Graves Registration Team reported to the Americans that Daniel Wilson was buried in a cemetery at Schwanberg, Austria.

In January of 1946, nearly a year after Danny was declared Missing in Action, his parents, Clabe and Leora Wilson, were notified that there was sufficient evidence to establish the fact of his death.

That August, the remains of Lt. Wilson were disinterred from the Schwanberg cemetery, to be evacuated to France for reburial. His remains became “Unknown X-7341” because there were no identification tags with them.

A document from his 293 or casualty file shows that X-7341, BTB (believed to be) Lt. Daniel Wilson, was reburied at a new temporary American cemetery near St. Avold, France, September 9, 1946, at 1500 hours, in temporary plot KKKK, Row 3, Grave 64.

Another American Graves Registration Command questionnaire documented the care given to identifying this one young American:

The laundry mark “W-0058,” found on cotton underwear, agreed with Lt. Wilson’s initial and last four digits of his military number.The date and place of death for X-7341 agreed with data on the Missing Aircraft Report for the plane Dan was flying. The German Dulag record stated that Lt. Wilson was buried in the civilian cemetery from which X-7341 was disinterred. The cross over the grave from which X-7341 was disinterred had been marked with his name and date of death. A civilian had stated that identification tags had been present in order to mark the cross. Lt. Wilson was the only American buried in the civilian cemetery from which X-7341 was disinterred.

Danny Wilson’s mother had kept a clipping about veterans insisting that men lost in war would want to be buried where they fell. Another son, Dale Wilson, had been declared dead after his B-25 was shot down on a mission and never found.

Leora Wilson had already buried her youngest son, Junior, age twenty, a pilot who’d been killed at the end of the war in a training accident. And in late 1946, Clabe died after having a stroke. Leora just couldn’t face another devastating funeral, so she signed the documents requesting Dan’s permanent overseas burial.

On December 21, 1948, Lt. Daniel S. Wilson, previously known as X-7341, was buried for the third and final time at the new and permanent Lorraine American Cemetery, just north of the temporary one. At their brother’s white cross–Plot D, Row 5, Grave 7–his sisters Doris and Darlene held their own service for him, assured that this is indeed where their brother is buried.

A French travel booklet says that “No American should visit Lorraine without seeing the American cemetery at St. Avold, the largest World War II cemetery in Europe, with 10,489 white marble crosses and stars of David that sweep into a sorrowful distance across immaculately maintained lawns.”

10,489 young Americans. One of them, Danny Wilson, remembered by his sisters who carried his sacrifice the rest of their long lives.

Doris (Wilson) Neal and Darlene (Wilson) Scar, October 1997

Sand was rubbed into his name on the marble cross so it would show up on their pictures: DANIEL S. WILSON  2LT 37 FTR SQ 14 FTR GP IOWA FEB 19 1945.

——-

I was amazed at the care given by the Graves Registration Teams to do their best to make positive identifications of America’s fallen sons. Later I read a book, Crosses in the Wind: Graves Registration Service in the Second World War by Joseph Shomon, which detailed the steps they took to guarantee each one.

Leora’s Letters: The Story of Love and Loss for an Iowa Family During World War II is the story of the family during WWII. It’s also the story behind the five brothers on the Dallas County Freedom Rock. All five served. Only two came home.

 

The Heart of the American Soldier by William R. Ablan

The Heart of the American Soldier

There’s some serious fringe benefits to getting my own closet.

Before, trying to get into that closet was taking your life into your hands. I had hundreds of pictures stashed in there but they might as well have been on the Moon. The only way I as getting most of them out was through a lot of hard work.

As part of my digitizing project, I am now able to take all the many pictures I took in the military and do something with them.

One of the many pictures I found is this one.

It shows an American Infantryman I encountered. He was standing on a berm in in Iraq, maintaining a watch. I liked the pose and took the picture.

The American Fighting Soldier, miles from Home

Looking at it now, after thirty years from the day I took it, and comparing it to the thousands of other pictures I’ve taken, I have to admit that it was one of the best pictures I ever took. I didn’t have to play any games in the darkroom to get it the way it looked.

When I pulled it out, I was struck that it shows the heart of a warrior. Someone who’s been called far from home, away from friends and family, and doing a job few others would even consider doing.

From the snows of Valley Forge to the battlefield at Gettysburg. From the American West to San Juan Hill and to the muddy trenches of France, men and soon, women, answered the call. People, some of us we were lucky to have known, waded onto the beaches of Sicily and France or fought across flea speck sized islands in the Pacific. Others froze in the stalemate called Korea, while their sons lived and fought in the green hell called Vietnam.

Today, our sons and daughters fight in the sands of the Middle East or the rocky hills of Afghanistan.

Like those of the past, many come back missing a part of themselves. They come back changed. They find themselves being round pegs that no longer fit into the square holes we expect them to. Many dust themselves off and go on to build the best life they can.

And others never came back. Some are buried beneath the waves in what remains of their ships, sailors on an eternal patrol. Others occupy a patch of ground in a distant land, away forever from their families. Some are still out, listed simply as Missing in Action, their fates presumed but still unknown.

But some who die, do come back, and are buried in cemeteries across our country. A flag is on their coffin, and it’s folded by an honor guard and presented to a weeping parent or spouse. Their coffins are lowered into the ground and a rifle salute is fired over them. Then there’s a long sad song, and one of our own disappears into the earth.

Where do the men and women who hold the line come from? They come from our farms, towns, and streets. They’re the girl next door, or the boy down the street who played basketball. They’re our sons and daughters. Our grandchildren. They’re someone’s father or mother. They’re the old man on a cane wearing a WW II vet hat, or the young man in college considering joining the VFW.

They’re the American fighting Soldier, Airman, Sailor, or Marine.

They’ve been criticized, ran down, labeled, neglected, spat on, cheered, slapped on the back, and cried over.

And I thank God for each and everyone of them that answered the call and I ask His blessing on them.

God bless the American Servicemember. Keep them safe. And bring each of them home.

William R. Ablan is the penname of Richard L. Muniz. His website.

He’s also shared stories on Our American Stories. Here’s twelve minutes called “We Live Through History Without Even Realizing It.”

Riches – 1920s (poem)

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Riches – 1920s

Soft black soil curlsbehind the plow’s blade.Squeak of leather harness,links a nickering brown horseto Dad’s guiding hands.His workshoes treadnew furrows,causing a commotion.The black richnessreveals fat earthworms.Swooping robins followDad’s big boots,then wing away with their prizes.I caught a robin onceat Grandmother’s, and took it to bed.“Lawsy, girl.” She came totuck me in. “You’ll have lice.”But a robin of your ownis a fine thing for a girl of four.So is a ride on Dad’s shoulderswhen he’s doneploughing the garden.(2004)

The Federal Writers’ Project–American Guide Series

Federal Writers’ Project

One of many projects undertaken by the WPA, created in 1935, was the Federal Writers’ Project.

The American Guide Series was a subset of works produced by the Federal Writers’ Project (FWP) and and is one of the most well-known FWP projects.  The American Guide Series Books, created through a cooperative effort of both Federal and State organizations, are part travel guide, part almanac. Each includes illustrations and photographs and offers a fascinating snapshot of the 48 United States in the Union, and Alaska, in the late 1930s and early 1940s. Additionally there are guides covering some of the major cities and some smaller ones, and a selection that focuses on inter-state adventures.

According to Wikipedia, the series of books were printed by individual states, and contained detailed histories of each of the then 48 states of the Union with descriptions of every major city and town. The project employed over 6,000 writers.

Reprinted

The WPA Guide to 1930s Iowa has been reprinted, and is available through Amazon. It’s not cheap but since I’ve been writing about that era, it’s been a great resource and is fun to read. It’s arranged by tours, with information to learn about each town on your trip.

Wikipedia lists which states and cities had books written about them in the 1930s for the Federal Writers’ Project. Several of them have been reprinted and are available through Amazon.

Aprons of Quilt Squares (poem)

Apron of Quilt Squares

All hand-stitched,
from the colorful patches
to the bias binding,
even the waistband and ties.

I'd expected even stitches
from a treadle machine,
but found tiny hand-sewing,
one spot still sporting
light blue basting thread.

Made by Grandma Ruby?
Or by her mother-in-law,
Nellie Neal, who helped
on the many family quilts.

Did this apron see action
at family dinners? The blue bias
binding and trim make it festive
enough for special occasions.

Even more precious since
a grandmother's hands set together
the cheerful squares, some probably
cut from feed or flour sacks.

—–

This apron is a cousin to the one above, including some of the same fabrics, but this one is almost entirely sewn by treadle machine. There’s hand-stitching on the back of the waistband and bias binding.

Someone went to the trouble to whip-stitch the raw edges of the squares on the backsides of both aprons. She meant for these to last, and I’ve decided that these two aprons are “keepers.”

Interview with WHO 13 News Multimedia Journalist Roger Riley

Five Dallas County Brothers Served, Only Two Came Home from WWII

Three-minute interview.

Twins Dale and Darlene Wilson, Born 100 Years Ago, Stuart, Iowa

Leora Wilson burned old wallpaper in the heater stove and kitchen range while Clabe was gone with the two boys. Twins were due in a couple of months and she kept an eye on three-year-old Doris. They had just moved to the edge of Stuart from a nearby farm.

It was a windy, clear day, not very cold, when neighbor man stopped by. “Lady, I think your house is on fire!”

It sure was. She took Doris out in the yard with a little red rocking chair and told her to stay right there. She stayed. That was Doris’s earliest memory.

Leora threw things out the kitchen window, including the clock, which flew apart. 

Firemen came, neighbors got most out of downstairs and some from upstairs. When Clabe and boys got home, their household goods were in the yard. The fire was in the attic, a defective chimney they decided. The Wilsons had insurance, which helped. 

Ripleys, who’d stayed with them the year before, asked them to stay at their place until they found another. They found another place the next day and got moved in. 

The Chittick house was a small one-story home at 515 Gaines Street. Mrs. Knox, widow of Dr. Knox, lived next door to the south. Ferns grew lush on the north side of her house. 

Doris, Donald, and Delbert in Mrs. Knox’s ferns, 1921, Stuart

While they lived there, the Stuart nightwatchman was killed during a bank robbery attempt. Clabe Wilson and another man were hired to take over.

On May 13, twins Dale and Darlene were born. Leora’s mother, Laura Goff from Guthrie Center, came for the births and stayed for several days.

Mrs. Knox next door enjoyed them and came over often. “You folks don’t need to go out for entertainment. You have it at home.” 

Clabe brought home a twin baby carriage to assemble. Leora had to walk several blocks to get groceries or mail, so a wagon and the baby carriage became their little parade. Going, Doris rode in the wagon while Delbert pulled and Donald pushed. They followed Leora with the baby cab or carriage. The wagon was needed for the groceries on the way home, so Doris hitched a ride on the front of the carriage.

Donald, Delbert, the twins, and Doris

This photo, of twins Dale and Darlene on their first birthday, with their big sister Doris, was shown on the screen at the Stuart theater.

Bricks at the restored Stuart Depot remember the birth of Dale and Darlene Wilson.